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6emo6zombie6 · 10 months ago

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The devils advocate for sin

Ghoulette reader x Papa IV Tags: boot licking, dick sucking, old men, Papa obviously, lots of praising, dom/sub

Being a new summon meant you were only expected to do simple tasks, like doing the laundry, helping during Dark mass, and cleaning Papa’s office. Today was a day you did the latter. Only this time Papa was present while you organized his books, swept the marble floors, and organized the drawers in his ornate desk.

“Ah, mio Ghuleh,” He said, peeking up from the papers he was reading and signing. You looked over your shoulder, holding an old book. “They are organized by alphabet, si?”

“Yes, Papa,” You nod, trying to not show your boredom or exhaustion from doing all these seemingly useless tasks. You knew Papa was just testing your obedience, training you to one day be on stage with him. Like all things in life—you started at the bottom of the ladder.

The older man gave you a nod, looking back down at his papers as you organized the last few books and ensured the bookshelf was tidy.

Now, usually, Papa was out doing whatever it is popes do, so this next task was a little degrading while he was there. You walked over and kneeled on the floor next to the chair he was sitting on, opening the bottom drawer on the side of his desk. You couldn’t see the glance he was giving you as you innocently grabbed the papers and pens out of the drawer, but needless to say, he was happy to see you on the floor.

You began organizing once again, sitting so delicately on your knees. Papa wondered why he’d never been there while you cleaned before, and he was definitely going to accidentally be in his office whenever you were tasked with cleaning it. You seemed to pay his endless scribbling no mind, your tail still as it lay on the floor.

He couldn’t help but stare, your hair falling slightly in front of your face as you leaned forward to ensure the drawer was completely organized. You moved on to the next one mindlessly, having done this many times before. Papa somehow always managed to make his office an utter mess.

“hm, you’re good at sitting on your knees, aren’t you?” He said in a cocky tone, not a single sign of embarrassment in the way he talked. Your presence always made him a little more confident and dominant, possibly due to your height.

You found his statement a little strange, though he was known to be quite odd at times, so you paid no mind to it.

“Such a good Ghoulette for me, such a good helper.” He said in a slightly deeper tone, his large gloved hand coming down to pat your head. He chuckled when your tail whipped excitedly, giving away your mood. He gave you a last scratch before his hand disappeared again, presumably to continue his paperwork. You smiled to yourself as you also continued your work.

It took you a little while to organize all the drawers on both sides of his desk, then help him organize his papers and clip them together. You started mindlessly sweeping the floor a second time after that, secretly enjoying Papa’s presence.

“Are you out of tasks?” He raised an eyebrow as he watched you repeat the task you’d done at the very start. He knew what you were getting at, boldly calling you out and making you feel embarrassed. You blushed and looked at him, leaning the broom against the nearest wall as you nodded sheepishly.

“Well, mio piccolo mostriciattola,” He failed to hold back the smirk that crept up his painted cheeks, his leather glove squeaking as he balled and unballed his fist absently. “If you’re that insistent on doing chores…” He smirked wider as his mismatched eyes stared into yours. “My shoes need cleaning. Would you—perhaps—want to clean them for me, Tesoro?”

You bit back a smile, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you checked his expression, making sure you both had the same thing in mind. His devious expression confirmed your suspicions, And with that, you made your way over to him, giving him a shy glance as you kneeled next to his chair. He promptly spun to face your way, his legs crossed. He wore his signature rat-bitten jeans—the ones that made his thighs look absolutely delicious—with his frilly shirt and his shiny dress shoes. It was enough to make any man or woman crumble beneath him in the same way you were now.

He uncrossed his legs momentarily to lean forward and grab your chin, making you look up into his menacing gaze.

“sei così, carina.” He chuckled lowly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning back into his plush chair again, once again crossing one leg over the other, wiggling his foot tauntingly.

“Go ahead.” He insisted in a murmur, his voice low with desire.

You gave him one last look, breathing deeply once before leaning forward and darting your tongue out toward his shoe. You ran it over the dull leather, your face completely red with embarrassment at this point. This whole thing was so degrading, yet you loved it. You loved licking your Papa’s shoes clean like a kit desperate for attention.

“Si, that’s it.” Papa gave you a grin, though he had turned back to his paperwork once you looked up at him. His disregard for you licking at his shoes made you more desperate, more eager to please your Papa. You licked stripe by stripe up his shoe until the dull leather had gotten shiny again with your saliva. You checked all around, Papa’s pen still scribbling endlessly on his wooden desk.

Upon casting another glance, he noticed you were already done with the first shoe. He stretched out his leg and propped it up on your shoulder, inspecting his now shiny shoe thoroughly.

“Hmm, good girl.” He gave you a soft smile, tilting his head as he noticed your shy reaction to his praise. He let out a breathy chuckle, dominance radiating off of him as he pressed the sole of his shoe against your collarbone, pushing you back slightly. The view you had from where you were kneeling on the floor was sinful and oh-so intoxicating. From the way he sat, you could see a sliver of his pale skin peek through between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his pants. His tight pants also made his bulge that much more visible to you, making you stare at it for a few seconds.

Papa followed your gaze, raising an eyebrow. “Now, now, mio Ghuleh.” He said in an amused, yet scrutinizing tone. “That’s far too inappropriate, no? You’re not supposed to look at your Papa that way.” His voice grew lower, now playfully scolding you.

Your eyes trailed back up to his face, looking into his with a half-confused, half-apologetic look. He wasn’t awestruck by your puppyish eyes, rather frowning at your blatant manipulation. You didn’t catch his disdained expression and eagerly touched his thigh, which he didn’t appreciate.

A glimpse of anger flashed across his face before you felt his leg skillfully hook around your neck, pulling you down a little before the heel of his boot forcefully pushed against the back of your head, throwing you off your balance and causing you to fall flat on the cold floor. His heel remained on the back of your head for a second, squashing your cheek against the marble before he planted it beside your head.

“Did I say you could touch?” He grumbled, scowling at you as you looked up at him, shaking your head. “Speak.” He quickly demanded.

“N-no, Papa...” You murmured gulping softly as you tried to sit back up on your knees, only for Papa’s other foot to plant between your shoulder blades and force you to the floor again. You let out a small huff as your chest hit the ground. And, oh, fuck, was it turning you on.

“Hm.” He jerked his chin up, somewhat satisfied with your answer. “You are where you belong now, hm? On the ground, beneath me.” He chuckled as he saw your obvious blush, letting him know how much exactly you enjoyed his praise and his degradation.

His legs were spread, one foot planted on each side of your head as he went back to writing and scribbling on his paperwork. You gulped and looked up at him, not getting a reaction just yet. So, again you started licking his dirty shoe, polishing the leather with your spit whilst simultaneously cleaning off any dirt. Luckily his shoes weren’t all that dirty, considering he was inside the pristine ministry most of the time, and never really outside besides the occasional visit to his brothers in the cemetary.

Your licking got more eager as Papa started to ignore you, only glancing at you ever so often to make sure you were doing what he told you to.

“You’re pathetic.” He said with a slight chuckle, watching you do your work. His voice made you breathe shakily, the warmth pooling between your legs. You were horny now, wet and eager to be filled by a proper cock.

You lay there on the floor, submissive to your Papa and licking his shoes clean like a slut. It was such a pitiful sight, yet Papa found your obedience endearing. He almost started to feel bad. Almost. But even Satan himself knew that Papa was far too arrogant to stop now.

You went on for a while longer before the second shoe was clean as well, shining in the same way the previous shoe was. Papa inspected it again, giving you an appreciative nod.

“See?” He smiled, way too kind for just having pushed you to the ground. He spoke in a sweeter tone now, satisfied with your obedience, even if he had to discipline you to get you there. “That’s what I like to see. My good little ghoulette working hard to make her Papa presentable.”

You smiled, sitting back up on your knees and moving closer to Papa as he started to softly stroke your hair, petting you as he would a dog or a cat. Your soft, ghoulish purr made him smile.

“You’re adorable.” He hummed, adjusting himself in his seat. His pants had started to get tight while he’d been watching you, his cock hard and straining against the fabric. He let out a soft, barely audible groan that made you look up in confusion, now noticing his arousal.

He grinned upon seeing you notice, stroking your cheek as he put the pen in his other hand down.

“I’m sure an obedient girl like you would like to please her Papa even more, no?”

You nodded furiously, giddy for his cock. “Yes, please, Papa.” You muttered hastily, gulping as he teasingly palmed himself.

“Good.” He grinned proudly at your answer, undoing his fly and pulling his cock out with a smug expression. His tip was red and eager, already leaking precum onto his jeans. Your eyebrows arched as you looked at it, needily biting your lip. Your tail swished behind you excitedly.

“Ah, carina, do I need to tell you to do everything?” He said with slight annoyance when you took too long.

“Uhm... sorry,” You gulped, quickly leaning forward and taking his head into your warm mouth.

Papa groaned loudly, slightly surprised at your quick movements. His hand was on your head in no time, gently petting you and pushing you down when he felt you needed guidance. His hands and the taste of his cock made you dizzy with need and arousal, your panties already having been soiled beneath your uniform. He felt so amazing. His touches the perfect balance between rough and gentle.

It didn’t take you all too much licking and sucking to start drawing moans and grunts from your Papa, his gloved hand grasping the armrest on his chair. He was no longer doing his work, all focus was on you as a reward for your obedience. You basked in the attention, closing your eyes and moaning softly as you bobbed your head up and down.

Papa gave your head an affectionate scratch, still petting you softly and grabbing ahold of your hair when he felt like it. You were such a sweet, obedient ghoul, one he could pleasure by simply praising. He wasn’t estranged to fucking his ghouls whatsoever—but lately, he’d just been so busy, he’d almost forgotten how much good a simple blowjob did from time to time.

“You are so good to me,” He praised breathlessly, his head lolling back as he started to sweat. He was starting to lose his grip, too enveloped in how good your mouth felt. He’d been too tired to even jerk off anymore, maybe a short break was all he needed to recharge.

“Si, Si, yes,” He moaned slightly louder, his voice echoing off the walls. “Shit, a-ah...” His voice was getting raspy now, his hand eagerly tugging on your hair as his hips started to buck against your face.

“You’re taking my cock so well.” He grunted, his eyes shutting and his eyebrows knotting together, pleasure washing over him.

You braced your hands on his thighs, softly squeezing the flesh and drawing a small laugh from your Papa. Even while your throat was stuffed with this man’s dick, you couldn’t help but touch his perfect body. He held onto your hair as he thrust into you, your nose touching his pelvis. He pulled you up a little higher to let you breathe once he heard you starting to choke.

“oh, cazzo, cazzo, non riesco a trattenerlo... merda...” He cursed mindlessly in Italian. You understood nothing, but you knew he was satisfied. “you want my cum, si? You want it?”

Somehow you managed a nod with him down your throat and holding your hair, and he moaned louder, a quick grunt escaping his lips as he came. He shot multiple thick ropes of his cum down your throat, coating the inside of your mouth as he mindlessly fucked your face. He was all desire now, his passion fading away and being replaced by carnal lust and pleasure.

He slowly began to calm down, his cock twitching slightly and slowly softening up once he pulled you off of him. You looked up at him innocently as you leaned your head on his thigh, inspecting his blissful expression and the heaving of his chest as he let himself come down from his climax. He pet your head lovingly, fixing your messy hair. He could tell you were aroused, your face all flushed and focused on what move he was going to make next.

“Good girl...” He sighed, smiling down at you. “You’re dismissed from doing tasks for today, okay?” He said softly, his accent more prominent due to his tiredness.

He tucked himself back in his pants with a huff, pinching your chin afterward. “Go back to your quarters, mio Tesoro.” He hummed softly.

You gave him a confused, slightly frustrated look. Was he seriously not going to grant you any pleasure after all that?

Papa noticed your expression. “I am a busy man, you know this, Tesoro.” He looked at you with a sympathetic expression, his hand falling in his lap as he motioned for you to stand up. “Andare. Back to your quarters.” He repeated and nodded his head toward the door, looking up at you as your face scrunched up in a cute pout.

“You just made me do all that and now I—”

“No, silenzio.” Papa cut you off, holding his hand up. “I know you want to be touched but I must get back to work. I promise I’ll take care of you later, but not now, si?”

You sighed, crossing your arms.

“I want no more out of you. Go, join the others.” He patted your thigh as he turned his chair back toward his desk. “You did very good, mio ghuleh."

#the band ghost #fem reader #female reader #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #x reader #copia #praise #smut #ghost smut #cardi c #papa iv x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa iv smut

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ghulehthezombiequeen · 2 years ago

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little sunshine. - from the start

cardinal copia x sister of sin!reader part 1.

masterlist. / little sunshine masterlist.

a/n (edited): thank you for all the love you guys are amazing <33

warnings/things to note: just copia being a ball of anxiety but we love him for it, oops i accidentally put some autistic traits into Copia but THAT'S FINE WE LOVE HIM EITHER WAY- also i wrote the reader as a confident, beautiful woman BECAUSE YOU ARE!!1!1!

anyway enjoy <3 requests are always open !

word count: 1,887

You were sitting at a windowsill, overlooking the garden. You had taken off your veil earlier, it had gotten too itchy to wear for 80% of the day. The veil was sitting in your lap as you combed your hair with your fingers, not really thinking of much, just spacing out.

"O-Oh! S-Sorella, hello...!" A voice pulled you out of your daydream, and you turned your head to see a nervous-looking Cardinal, whom you've learned to know as Copia. "What, uh... what are you doing here?" He asked politely, already starting to fidget in your presence.

Copia had always thought you were beautiful, with how you did your hair (from what he could see given the chance), to your eyes, and how they always seemed to sparkle with some sort of magic when you spoke about your interests. He tried to act brave, to put on a face of a confident Cardinal and could do anything he put his mind to. Unfortunately, he couldn't hide the fact that he'd always get nervous around pretty girls, and you were no exception. He cleared his throat and looked up at you, admiring your beauty.

You, in turn, stare at him expectantly with a cautious eyebrow raising. "Hello, Cardinal. Did they... need me for something?" You asked as you ran your fingers across the fabric of your veil, still sitting in your lap as you waited from a response from him.

Copia took a deep breath. "Um, yes, Sorella- I- I mean, Sister..." His voice cracked and he felt a wave of embarrassment flush over him. He cleared his throat again and started over. "Yes, the clergy requested you for an important m-meeting, about you." He looked up at you again, his breath catching in his throat the longer he stared at you. The truth was, he loved you. He really, truly loved you, and he didn't know the reason why. He cleared his throat yet again and looked away quickly.

You sighed, looking out at the gardens one last time, you knew the meeting would be at least 2-3 hours, and that's if they were all arriving on time. "Alright... I'll be there in a moment." You replied, sliding off of the sill and digging into your pocket to grab your compact mirror. When you found it, you handed it to Copia. "Could you be a dear and hold this for me for a second? Thanks."

Copia nodded, opening the mirror for you in one hand and looking around awkwardly as you put your veil back on. His eyes darted to his feet, the wall, the ceiling and eventually back at you. He tried to look you in the eye, but as always, he just lost any confidence or courage he was able to muster up. As much as he wanted to meet your gaze, his heart did a thousand jumping jacks per second. He just couldn't do it.

Meanwhile, you were finishing up putting the veil back on your head, your perfect bangs peeking out and falling into place just above your eyes. You smoothed it over with your perfect, manicured hand and stared at yourself in the compact mirror for a few seconds, smiling at yourself before taking the mirror back. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Copia nodded again, barely looking at you for a moment before dropping his gaze down to his feet. He knew that if he stared at you any longer than that, he'd just might lose his marbles because he was so in love with you. The feelings that ran through his mind and soul were ones that he did not know were possible for him to feel, especially as a Cardinal in a Satanic Church.

Copia's face flushed. "Y-You look, um..." he fumbled over his words. "Like a drowned rat?" You cut him off, joking. "Don't worry, I'm aware. I'll see you around, Cardinal." You smiled to yourself as you walked towards the meeting room.

Copia's eyes followed your figure as you put more and more distance between the two of you. "Y-You look gorgeous.... drowned rats don't tend to be as attractive as you..." he mumbled to himself the moment you were out of sight, then facepalmed. He couldn't believe he just said that out loud, what if someone could hear him?! Not to mention, what if you heard?! He hid his face in his hands. "Great, just great, now I look like an idiot. She's never going to talk to me ever again..."

A few hours later, you wandered out of the meeting room, looking stressed and exhausted. That meeting had really worn you out. You sighed heavily once you got into the middle of an empty hallway, burying your face in your hands and letting out a muffled, voice-cracked groan. "Okay! Get yourself together, girl. You can do this." You whispered to yourself to boost your confidence, You took another deep breath and started to walk down the hallway again.

Little did you know that Copia was actually right behind you. "S-Sorella- I- I mean, Sister! Wait for me, please!" he squeaked, stuttering like crazy as he power-walked to you. "Hm?" You turned in confusion, then relaxed a bit as you realized it was just Copia. "Sister. What is wrong? Everything okay?" He asked, a bit out of breath. He sounded worried; he knew the amount of stress you might be under right now, but he hated to think you were suffering. His heart ached when you looked anything but happy.

"Oh, hello again, Cardi. Sorry, is it okay if I call you Cardi?" You greet him and you two slowly walk down the hall side by side. "And, to answer your question, yes, I'm fine. It's just... they want me to work at the library now instead of with the kids, which I don't mind, it's just... I dunno. The library can get really stuffy sometimes." You sigh, staring at the tiles on the floor.

"Of course you can, Sister... but, uh... I would prefer if my name was not in such close proximity to the, uh... cardiovascular system. M-Maybe something a bit more... friendly, y'know?" He chuckled a bit, seeming like he had something else to say, but he chose to keep it to himself, for now. He looked down at his feet, counting the seconds between each step. "I... I understand that it gets stuffy, but what about the little ones? They love you, no?"

You giggled at his comment on the nickname. "No, no, I meant- I meant it as a shorter version of 'Cardinal,' that's all. Silly billy." You sighed, looking at the tapestries decorating the walls. "I know, they really do. They're so cute, but they do cry a lot. And it can get really loud at times." You shrugged. "I don't really mind the switch, honestly."

"Ah, I see. I'm sorry, I'm bad at picking up on social things. I- I mean, if you want to call me Cardi, you can...!" He mumbled bashfully, a light pink dusting his cheeks. "Alright, then. I will." You smiled at him.

When he glanced at you again, he knew that now would be the time to bite the bullet. He cleared his throat again and began to speak. "Sister.. I.. is it okay if I ask you a question?" He looked down at his feet again. You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, andpart of your hair that was hiding behind your veil had fallen over your shoulder. "Oh? Go ahead..."

He took a deep breath as he stopped, looking you in the eye. He couldn't believe he was actually saying this. He just hoped you wouldn't throw your heel at him and hate him for eternity by the end of it.

"I.. Sor- Sister.. I... Would you like to... um... would you possibly want to take a walk with me in the gardens after dinner? Just... just you and me? Like a, uh... like a date?"

There, he'd said it. Out loud. In front of you. He felt faint and the room began to spin slightly, but he had to be brave for you.

"......Eh?"

You didn't mean for that to slip out, but it did. You were just surprised. It wasn't uncommon that you'd get a love confession, you'd get one almost every week. But you were at a loss for words at this one because, well, it was Copia of all people! The Cardinal Copia, future Papa Emeritus IV of the Satanic Ministry!

Copia felt his face turn pale as your reaction shocked him. He thought he had screwed up big time, and he had a bad feeling he was right. He took a deep breath and looked up at you with pleading eyes. "Oh... please, don't be angry with me. I've... I've loved you for so long, Sister, so very long. I- I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner, but I couldn't bring myse-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow your roll, Cardi. That wasn't supposed to be my response!" You chuckled, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder to comfort him (and to make him meet your eyes). You smiled at him. "And my response... is yes, I'd love to." You couldn't help but tease him a little, he just looked really cute when he got all shy and fumbled over his words while trying to talk to you.

Copia's eyes lit up at your words, he knew he was smiling like an idiot right now, but he didn't care. He let out a quick laugh. "Y-You really want to?" He couldn't believe it; he thought you were just playing him at first. But when you nodded and smiled, he almost swooned with joy. He accidentally, unknowingly started to step towards you, a shy smile on his face.

He started to lean in slightly...

...and you leaned back slightly, patting his shoulder with an awkward chuckle. "Uhhhh.... not quite there yet. But we'll get there eventually." you giggled.

He felt his face flush with embarrassment, and he took a couple steps back. "S-Sorry..." he chuckled awkwardly. "A-Anyway, tonight after dinner? Is... is that a plan then?" He smiled awkwardly his heart fluttered in his chest as the realization hit him. You said yes. He was so excited and worried at the same time. The feeling was so overwhelming, it made him feel lightheaded.

You nodded, inadvertently brushing your bangs out of your eyes. "That sounds wonderful. I'll meet you in the dining hall entrance after we're finished. I'd like to change my shoes first though."

Copia nodded. He couldn't hold in his excitement anymore, his hands fidgeting again, but this time out of happiness. You smiled as it caught your eye, you thought it was cute. He chuckled nervously. "O-Okay, Sister. I'll be in the dining hall, waiting..." He then turned the opposite direction of where you two were supposed to be walking, then turned back to look at you again. "Sister, I just wanted to say.... thank you. Thank you so much, I... I don't know if you know how much this means to me." He smiled warmly at her then ran off excitedly.

"Okay, Cardinal... I think I'm pretty aware now." You nodded and chuckled, shaking your head as you walked towards your own room to get ready.

~~~

next chapter.

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liquiddrywall · 1 year ago

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I doubt anyone will see this since I haven’t been active here in a hot minute but I made a copia fic :3

Old Habits Die Hard on Ao3

Summary: You came to this church in hopes of not only starting anew, but also seeking friendly companionship. Unfortunately for you, living a past life as a shut-in catholic nun set you back in life more than you expected, enough to make it difficult to relate to the rest of the siblings. As a result of this, Sister Imperator has asked you to open for mass in hopes of getting you out there, but she forgot to mention one thing: Today's subject for mass had everything to do with the one sin you've yet to get to.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #cardinal copia #papa iv #papa emeritus iv #ghost fandom #ghost band fanfiction #cardinal copia/reader #fem reader #copia x reader #copia x female reader #mild hurt/comfort #cardinal copia x reader #papa iv x reader #papa emeritus iv/reader #papa emeritus iv x reader

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canarycolemine · 2 years ago

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Vignettes of Paradise

Vignette III

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV x Original Female Character

Summary: Copia gazed up at his official portrait, how lonely it looks without his love. His love, however, is in quite the sour mood. Even if she doesn’t see it, his love for her is always visible.

Warning: slightly suggestive material

AO3 Link!

Copia had treasured watching the sunset from his luxurious office. A far cry from the cramped office from his Cardinal days. Designed to his humble preferences, with small luxuries - dark, oak wood and rich brown leather couches, chairs, and royal blue curtains, pillows and accents throughout the room. Over the beautiful dark fireplace, his portrait commanded the room.

He objected to his portrait being in his office, something about seeing himself constantly, watching over his actions felt like vanity and generally unnerving. However, the upper clergy reminded him that, indeed, vanity is a sin. In case he forgot what sort of church he was leading.

As he gazed at the portrait, he longed for the day when the painting came down and updated.

How beautiful the portrait would be once his Evie joined him. Could the artist capture the way the sun shined in her eyes - showing the complexities of her eyes? Would it catch the perpetual flush to her cheeks? Oh how he hoped they would.

One day, he would not be worried about his visage watching his work; his lover would watch over him.

Lost in thought at the portrait, Evie stormed into the room, immediately alerting Copia that something was wrong. How sweet she normally was, now utterly grumpy!

Her nose scrunched as she planted herself on Copia’s couch. Copia had learned better than to comment on how adorable she looked when she was mad. Still, though, her sour mood worried him.

“My love, what’s wrong?” He asked, sitting next to her.

“Oh!! I’m so mad!” She started. “And no advice right now, I just need to be heard.”

“You have my word, tell Papa what’s wrong.”

“All day long! People have been staring at me! At the infirmary people would not look me in the eyes, but they wouldn’t stop staring at me! It was infuriating. And when I talked to Diana, she did it too.” She began, already raising her voice.

“I asked her, ‘what, do I have something on my face?’ And she was like, ‘nope, not at all, Evie.’ And then she laughed. I was just so busy, I had no time to think, but every time I spoke to someone or walked past someone, they would just stare at me. Then they would start giggling and someone said, ‘hey Evie, how’s old Papa doing?’ What does that have to do with my face!”

“Evie…” Copia began to interject.

“No, I’m not done.” She said, smiling only a flash, reassuring him that she was certainly not frustrated with the aforementioned Papa! “And I love you so very much, obviously, but I would hate to think that people think I get everything I want here just because we’re, you know, boyfriendgirlfriend.”

“Oh amore! That is not true!”

“How do I know that, I can’t ever tell what people are thinking. And why do they see my face and immediately think of you!”

“Perhaps, ah sorry, are you ready for the advice?” Copia hesistated.

“Maybe, but what could you say that would help me understand what people are thinking?”

“Eh, maybe I could show you?”

Copia grabbed her hand, hoisting her up, as they headed to their shared bedroom. Evie had a confused expression at the sudden change of scenery.

“Copia, why are we going over to the bedroom?” Evie became even more confused, convinced that fucking would not really help her mood.

“No more words, amore. Just follow me.”

He led her to the en-suite bathroom, guiding her, holding her hand.

Before they stepped much further into the bathroom, he paused, turning to her.

“I know why the siblings were staring at you all day. And it’s not because of your radiant beauty, although it stops me dead in my tracks. It is not because we are involved, and certainly, you are not given any advantages simply because of that. You work very hard, Evie, do not discredit yourself.”

A pout grew on her face, as her eyes began to well. He gently guided her into the room, turning her towards the mirror. Evie half expected a lesson in self-love. But as she began to take in her reflection, she saw the two of them. She was still dining her habit and veil, but she took in her face.

Her eyes immediately followed to her forehead.

“Oh.” She quietly said. Her expression changed suddenly.

Squarely on her forehead, a prominent black kiss mark was unmissable.

“Oh.” She repeated.

She recalled Copia kissing her forehead this morning; she was running late and left just as Copia was finishing his paints for the day.

Copia was sure that Evie would eventually wipe away the mark. But alas, here it remained, a half a day later. In pristine condition. She didn’t even notice it.

“Oh, I am not very smart, copia.”

“Ah, of course you are, my Evie! You have said it before, you have book smarts and maybe less of the street smarts.”

Evie giggled for the first time in hours.

“Perhaps when we make our clergy portrait, you can have a little kissy mark on your forehead, then, too, heh?”

“Oh you wouldn’t dare!” She teased back.

That evening, Copia ensured that she had plenty of matching kiss marks all over her body.

#ghost fanfiction #ghost bc fic #ghost oc #ghost band fic #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus x fem!oc #papa emeritus iv x original female character #cardinal copia x reader #popia fanart

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fluffysourpatch · 2 years ago

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Until the end of time my little ghoulette

Sodo x fem reader

Warnings: Sodo is a little cocky ass but softens slowly to our cutie ghoulette <3, bad english whoops sorry!

!1518 Words!

// Chapter IV //

I believe in you

It’s been an hour, since Gigi was with Sodo. He sighed, as he looked at his empty mug. “Damn” he muttered, standing up from his chair. “Maybe I was a little too harsh on her”, he sighed. He thought for a few seconds. “I think I should go and check on her and what she´s doing. Just in case…” He muttered, before leaving the room and walking through the hallway, searching for the ghoul girl.

Meanwhile Gigi was sitting on her chair and head on the desk sleeping, the red book Sodo gave her opened beside her and some notes for her to remember.

Sodo knocked on her door but no response, he opened the door and walked in. “She´s sleeping…” Sodo muttered to himself, as he put his hands behind his back and looks down on her. On her face he sees dried up tears. She cried? For a moment he felt guilt, guilt for making her cry but he ignored it and kicked her leg to wake her up “Wake up!” he said.

Gigi opened her eyes a little “Huh?” she looked around and stood up fast without noticing Sodo, “Oh no! oh no no! Why did I fell asleep?!” She slaps herself softly. “Stay awake!” she takes the notebook and starts to read.

She´s distracted. Exactly what Sodo wanted. He smiled slightly, as he came closer to her. There was a malicious smirk on his lip… A smirk of pure evil. He bent down on her, his head beside her ear and whispered “Finally decided to learn?” Gigi jumped and turned around her hand on her chest “Oh my! You scared me! What are you doing in my room?” she asked with widened eyes.

Sodo stood up and glanced at her as she spoke “Well I decided to see how you are, and found you sleeping rather than working… do you really need some punishment girl?” Sodo just raised his hand to put his hair back and as Gigi saw his hand raising her eyes widened, she stood up from the chair and curled herself on the ground, remembering what her mother and father did. “PLEASE NO! NOT AGAIN PLEASE!” she yells

Sodo´s eyes widened as he hears her yelling not again “again?” He seemed surprised. “Did someone else punish you before?” he asked. “It better not have been another teacher, or I will kick their ass” he said, before his look returned to normal. Gigi looked up at him with new tears, “M-m-my parents… They… They used to hit me and punish me every time when I did something wrong … and they abused me more when they found out I turned into a ghoul! Please… please just ... I don´t- “

He listened to her, shocked. “Parents hitting their kids?” He asked, almost in a whisper. “Your parents… hitting you?!” He looked at her, as he let it sink in. “How could they do that?”

“That´s ridiculous” He muttered to himself. “No one, should ever have to go through that. Especially a kid” He put his hands behind his back, not trying to scare her anymore. “I´m sorry… You shouldn´t have had to go through that”

Gigi listened to him and nods her head, still sitting on the ground hugging herself, but still looking a little scared of him. “You´ve been through a lot… Maybe I can go a little easy on you for now… But only once. You understand me?” Sodo said as he kneeled before her to be on eye level.

“I didn´t wanted to fell asleep I swear! I was reading and taking notes, I don´t know how it happened! I´m sorry!” Gigi said with tears rolling down her eyes. Sodo glanced at her and nods slowly. “Maybe you actually need some sleep” He replied, slightly amused. He stood up and extended his hand to her to help her, Gigi took his hand and raised up.

“Go get some rest Gigi…” he sighed as he walked to her door to leave the room but turned around again. “Oh, and if you wanna talk about… Your parents… I´m here. I know I´m your teacher and whatnot but… I am a good listener” He said as he smiled a little but then had his stoic face again “Now sleep” he grunted.

Gigi smiled at him “Thank you… but its okey, I don´t live with them anymore, I´m far away from them” Gigi said as she laid down on her bed. Sodo went out of her room and sighed, he walked away as he thinks. He´s been too harsh on her, she is a difficult girl but also a funny one. Not boring like the others, he knows. Also, she deserves another chance even if she gets him on his nerves sometimes…

She´s a sweet one…

Sodo stopped walking and his eyes widened. Where did that come from? Sweet one?! He shakes his head and ignores it as he walks to his room also to rest a little.

The next day, Sodo and Gigi meet again in the practice room.

“So, have you done what I told you to do?” Sodo asked her, as he looked at her. “I really hope you have” he crossed his arms Infront of his chest waiting for her. “Yes, I did what you told me!” Gigi said happily. “Good! Don´t you dare lie to me now young lady!” He grinned, putting his hands behind his back. “You´ve had it hard enough. I won´t let your past ruin your present as well” He smirked, as a hint of kindness showed up in his eyes, before grumping again. “But you gotta keep behaving and doing your work” he huffed “no exceptions!”

Gigi smiled and said “Yes sour- eh SIR”!

“Just Sodo. And you call me sour patch ONE MORE TIME, I swear to Satan, I´ll punish you” he glared at her as a smirk appeared on his lips. “Is that clear?”

Gigi giggled as she saluted to him “Yes Sodo, don´t worry I´ll behave!” Sodo muttered a whatever hoping she wouldn´t call him that nickname again. He glared at her, as a hint of annoyance came in his voice. “You´ll do better at your homework, right? Promise me you will” he said sternly.

Gigi glanced at him she smiles at him as she replies “I promise I will do better!” Sodo was surprised, but he didn´t show it. Her promise to do better really took him by surprise. “Good” he replied, as he put a hand on her shoulder “I believe in you Gigi, you can do it” A small smile appeared on his lips, for the first time, he seemed honest. “You´re gonna be a great ghoulette, I´m sure of it”.

Gigi´s eyes widened, never did she heard of someone having hope for her, that they believe in her… and that she would be great. Her parents never thought of her like this, they just hated her for who she was and what she is. They despised her, made her feel worthless. Even Sodo who hated her at the beginning, believes in her. She gives him a big smile her eyes sparkle with happiness. She bows at him “Thank you Sodo…” she said softly

“You don´t need to thank me, this is my job” he replied, smiling now. “But you´re a good ghoulette, Gigi. Don´t let anyone tell you otherwise, you understand? Even from me.” He grinned. “And you can always ask me for help, you got it? I always have an open ear for you. Anything goes”

Gigi nods and smiles at him she sat down on a chair her hands folded. “What are you gonna teach me now?” She asked as she tilts her head.

Sodo nodded, before giving her a page showing a music sheet. “Today we´re going to learn about the different notes in music, and how to play them with your instruments” he said, before smiling.

“Do you know what these are?” He asked, as he pointed to the different notes on the music sheet. “Have you ever played an instrument before today?” Gigi nods as she replies “Yes, I did, at home I learned the guitar by myself and uhm… When I found you guys, I was listening to your songs and started to play them on my guitar!”

Sodo seemed surprised that she was listening to the band, didn´t know that she does it. But shrugs it off as he continues to teach her the basics. “Let’s start with the basics, and then I’ll be moving you to a more advanced class, so you can finally show how good you are at music” He nodded, as he put a hand on her shoulder

“I believe in you”

He repeated again. That made Gigi happier and more confident to never stop trying anymore and has someone who believes in her now…

she doesn´t need her parents who never thought that she was someone… She was happy here. She doesn´t regret it running away at home… if she never did that. She never would have met Papa Copia and Sodo…

aka Sour Patch.

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Heyyooo, sorry for the long update i was so fucking lazy my gosh! but now here is the next chapter! i hope you love it <3

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stressghoul · 2 years ago

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In Your Own World

A fic based on Ghost's new cover of 'Stay'.

Summary Stay with me. I didn't think when I ran. And I couldn't think when I saw him singing in a red sequin jacket with his mismatched eyes staring at me.

Papa Emeritus IV x fem! reader

AO3 link here

I took a deep breath through my chill-reddened nose as I stepped through the double glass doors of the restaurant. I am not usually one who socialises; I would much rather spend my night alone in a dressing gown, but I had already said yes to tonight. Why had I said yes to tonight? I cursed my past self under my breath as I kept walking.

Winifred’s was the fanciest place to eat in the godforsaken town. Crisp white tablecloths glowed under the warm lamplight on each dining table. It had attracted lovers of two to groups of six sitting down and eating and I felt my stomach flip as strode inside clearly missing the outfit memo. I glanced down at my black playsuit, long sleeve white shirt underneath, sparkly black tights, doc martins, and long dark grey overcoat with embarrassment. I saw one girl in a cocktail dress. Another in a corset. Why did I say yes to tonight? I didn’t belong here.

But as the second passed, I saw a short girl with long blonde curls. She waved at me excitedly from a window dining table. I took another deep yet sharp breath through my nose and pulled my coat closer to my body.

“I will only be here for dinner and that’s it.’ I said to myself. ‘No longer.’

Ruby greeted me as I removed my overcoat reluctantly and placed it on my chair. I hadn't been friends with her long, but she was outgoing and comforting to be around. Her golden hair shone in the ambient orange light, the reflections grabbing my attention when she moved to embrace me in a friendly hug. She was the kind of person who said she was introverted, yet in the same breath would say yes to going out to the sticky club on a whim. I was nothing like Ruby.

I was quick to tell her that I felt underdressed, but Ruby in her infinite kindness said my curves looked cute in the dark playsuit. I brushed it off. She was wearing a long flowing baby blue maxi dress with matching heels.

I ordered quickly. Anything with chicken and a side salad. I didn't want to be here longer than I had to.

Ruby ordered a margarita and a plate of pasta. She updated me on her job but I felt a million miles away in my own world. It’s not that I didn't care, it’s that my heart did not stop beating out of my chest. Anxiety had her claws in me more than normal tonight.

A waiter came by our table - a long, slender man with curly brown hair piled on top of his head. He was cute, I thought to myself. He placed a margarita in front of Ruby and a sav blanc for me. I eyed it and then gazed at Ruby.

‘I knew you needed one’ was all she said with a wink. I sighed but took a large sip. The burn woke me up. I might need more than one . But the waiter - still standing at attention beside me - stated that if we were too cold with the window slightly open, he was happy to close it. I immediately said it was fine; no need to do any more for us and after all, I know how to close a window if I started shivering. He bowed slightly and left us silently.

But I heard it in the breeze. A whisper of a voice through the same window.

If this world is wearing thin, and you’re thinking of escape …

With the wine glass frozen on my lips, I stared out the window. And the voice continued.

I'll go anywhere with you, just wrap me up in chains.

I don't remember standing up. I don't remember excusing myself from Ruby. All I heard was the voice from outside.

But if you try to go alone, don't think I'll understand.

The chill had bitten into my skin deeply as I left Winifred’s as quickly as I had entered. I shivered; I didn't have my overcoat. Fuck that. Where was the voice coming from?

I started running - I think it echoed from the old botanic gardens, or at least in that direction. My heart was pounding harder than my heavy boots on the pavement. I didn't bother to look where I was running. I was following my ears. I had never been this impulsive.

Stay with me.

It was getting louder. I was getting closer. Did anyone else hear that? Trees were a green blur and I ran faster than I had in my life.

Stay with me.

I had never heard a voice like this one. Full of emotion. Alluring. Quite literally pulling me toward him. If I see Ruby again, I will need to profusely apologise. But right now, I didn't care. Who’s voice was that?

I felt the bass then - it was a performance maybe? A full band was behind the man with an angelic voice. And he didn't stop singing as if he was whispering directly to me.

In the silence of your room; In the darkness of your dreams …

You must only think of me; there can be no in between.

My breaths came in quickly, but I was almost there. Through the metal gates of the botanic gardens. Down the pebbled path. I thanked my past self for wearing solid footwear but hated that I forgot my overcoat because the cold was digging deeper into my bones. Running was the only distraction. And the disembodied voice of course.

When your pride is on the floor, I'll make you beg for more.

I sprinted on soggy grass from earlier rains. Who was performing when it was so miserable outside, and more importantly where were they?

But I knew with every pound of my heart, the performers were on the other side of the gardens. I just needed to round the corner.

And I did, as I heard again -

Stay with me.

If his voice was beautiful and alluring, it did not do anything to prepare me for what he looked like.

I was right - it was a band on stage and they were surrounded by soft yellow and orange hanging lights. There were quite a few people here and they all wore black. They danced to the slow music and the soft voice.

The soft voice. Then the rest of the band kicked in, leading with the drums and my eyes were glued to him. My heart was in my throat.

You'd better hope and pray, that you make it safe back to your own world.

He was a picture of red and black. The jacket glinted in the light as he moved and swayed to his music, bouncing red every which way with his eyes closed. His face was painted like a skull in black and white, but he wasn't scary. How could he be when he sounded like an angel? He held the microphone close to his mouth as he opened his eyes. They were like two glistening gems; one geen one white. And they were looking at me.

You'd better hope and pray, that you'll wake one day in your own world.

'Cause when you sleep at night, they don't hear your cries in your own world.

Only time will tell if you can break the spell back in your own world.

I was out in the open. I was crashing this … party? Gathering? Why were all these people here? I was puffing out of exhaustion. I couldn’t breathe not just because I was running a second ago or the fact that I felt my nose freeze over; it was because he was staring at me with a curious gaze.

He was still far away, on stage in the middle of a clearing within the gardens. Trees surrounded everyone but the warm lighting kept the dance floor bustling. The stage wasn't too big; it didn't overwhelm the party, but his presence was more than enough to capture every ear there. By his side were other musicians, masked with dark helmets and matching outfits. But my gaze landed back on him. And I found myself walking closer. I was drawn to him like a moth to a very, very alluring flame,

Stay with me.

I was by the dance floor now, gazing up at him. Others ignored me, listening to his voice. How was this man so harsh looking, but his voice like the feeling of warm breath on cold cheeks?

Stay with me.

From here I could see the lines on his face, the greying hairs at his temples emerging from his soft brown hair. He was beautiful. He still gazed at me as he sang:

Stay with me.

Why was I here? What was I doing? Those were questions I should have been asking, but instead, my brain was wondering who he was.

Stay with me.

The music faded and he removed the mic from being so close to his face. I saw him fully for the first time. His chest was steadily inhaling and exhaling deeply from the effort of the performance. He put everything he had into it. I had no doubt of that.

He unlocked his gaze from me suddenly and left the small stage after he handed his mic to one of those masked musicians. I only noticed now that they appeared to have tails. What was going on? As quickly as he left, I heard him again.

‘What’s a girl doing outside in the dead of winter without a coat?’

I turned toward the voice that caressed my ear almost as much as his singing.

He was in front of me. The painted man. He was taller close-up and I could see each individual sequin on his crimson jacket and he engulfed my personal space. The delicate colours in his one green eye and the pure liquid pearl that was his white one stared into my own.

I had no reply. How could I? This person just pulled me from a restaurant with a friend. Shit! Ruby.

‘Are you okay, little mouse?’ he asked. This time concern wrapped his face in the form of his forehead creasing and eyes searching me all over.

I made a slight noise in my throat as a response and his lip quirked up a fraction. He smiled at me.

But before I could even process that, he was shrugging off that red sequin jacket from his broad shoulders.

‘This won’t do. And even if you can't talk, you don’t deserve to freeze.’ He said politely.

He moved closer and delicately placed his jacket on my shoulders. Oh god, I could smell him. Like cider and fresh florals from the market. His gloved hands adjusted the collar and I watched them as they made sure I was wrapped up in his jacket. His lingering warmth from being on stage still clung to the heavy material. His finger caught my chin as he moved it to look back up at him.

He said nothing, just analysed my face. And I hated not knowing, so a question sprung out of me.

‘Who are you?’

The smirk returned, and this time, I saw how it manipulated his face paint. The black lips moved, creasing his cheeks, and smudging the black into the white slightly.

‘So the little mouse does speak, eh?’ He laughed as he looked down at me in his clothing, and continued. ‘Call me Papa.’

#the band ghost #ghost #copia #ghost bc #papa iv #copia is my husband #papa emeritus iv #copia my beloved #fem! reader x papa iv #fem! reader #the band ghost fic

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ficandkaboodle · 6 months ago

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Vaginismus: Terzo x Fem!Reader

A/N: Stg if I ever see this purple fucking freak darken the doorway of my mind, I'm going for his kneecaps. He will never be able to slut about on the floor again, and then what will he do? Thanks, y'all, for being so patient as I almost daily had a meltdown over the structure of this. And HUGE thanks once again to @angellayercake for being my ever-patient beta with amazing input and ideas!! I hope I did our bastard boy some kind of service.

Word Count: 8.8K. Sorry, this bad boy is a hydra: For every sentence I deleted, more words would come in its place

CW: Reader has a vagina, hurtful comments from past relationships, reader's mental state is kinda fucked at a few points, hints at extremely uncomfortable interactions to "make the relationship work". Sooo...Vaginismus and its delightful conditions, I suppose. Oh, and a hint of Google Translate Italian. I'm sorry, I tried referencing @/foxybouquet's ever so helpful guide the best I could but alas, I am still a moron. MDNI

Papa III was a notorious flirt, even by the standards of the sexually liberated Church of Satan.

Everybody knew this, from the Clergy to Sister Imperator to the ghouls to his many, many lovers. And yet, when his sights finally fell upon you, everyone knew: Something in him had changed. At the very least, his methods sure had.

Secondo raised a brow when he first saw his brother lightly jogging up to you in the hallways, panting for you to wait up. Primo sported a knowing smirk when he watched the normally suave man sheepishly inquire about the meaning behind certain flower arrangements. Quite the departure from his usual bouquet of red and white roses, the older man couldn't help but note.

A startled Copia quickly became suspicious when the brother that tended to tease him the most came to his office one day, armed with top-shelf juice boxes and nutty chocolate bars – just the starting price for whatever info he was willing to give his dear old fratello about his new favorite Sorella.

The ghouls had a field day whenever they came upon the old man either sulking or even swooning over how a recent interaction had gone. One even swore they had scrounged through his wastepaper basket (don't ask, it’s not worth it) and found crumpled up drafts of sonnets. Sonnets!

It was the Siblings, however, who seemed to take the most notice of his antics. And, unfortunately, the most offense.

Certainly, plenty of the congregation had received a bouquet or two from their beloved Papa Terzo. Many had been wined and dined, and some were even whisked away for a night of passion and excitement in a glamorous metropolitan hub. Terzo had gotten around, and he would probably continue to get around until he either died mid-orgy or until his dick fell off. (And even if the latter did happen, it probably wouldn’t slow him down. Not until his fingers and tongue followed suit, anyway.)

It was cyclical: You would be an interest for a week or two before your time would be up, and you would part ways as he turned his attention to another, leaving you with memories of a whirlwind dalliance to reminisce about for years to come.

This was simply something that was understood and accepted without much of any animosity amongst Siblings. This was just how things were. Or at least up until now.

They must have noticed there was something about the way Terzo pursued you. For starters, nobody could ever recall a time when the man actually needed to really pursue anyone, let alone to the extent and care he currently displayed.

They could tell when a peer was actively trying to heighten the tension, turning their back to him but still glancing over their shoulder to shoot a heated stare. An invitation for him to keep it coming. Really putting the “play” in “playing hard to get”. But generally speaking, most of what Terzo needed to do was snap his fingers and whichever Sibling or ghoul he had his eye on would eagerly crawl into his lap and then into his bed.

Maybe they saw a shine in his eyes that wasn't there when they had him. Or maybe they thought he leaned just the slightest fraction of an inch closer to you than he ever did with anyone else. Or maybe they swore his voice sounded different when he spoke with you. Lighter, but not out of an upturn in pitch to sound friendlier. It was more like it carried less weight. Almost as though he felt less burdened by some unspoken thing. Some thing he never cared to share with them.

Granted, you didn't help matters by actually enjoying the odd conversation or two (or over a dozen) with Terzo. (And by "odd", this meant the animated discussions that borderlined two-person seminars on subjects like the Hays Code, or how viewing certain films through a gendered or queer lens could enhance the suggestion of the story.)

And anyone who spotted you alone on the quad sharing a snack would've been convinced you were on an impromptu picnic, rather than the fact Terzo had found you and offered you pickings from his secret snack pocket.

Sure, it was just a sandwich baggy of cheese doodles, but the point still stood: You had Terzo's full attention, his intrigue, his consideration, his snacks, and you hadn't done a damn thing to deserve them! Any interaction between the both of you, every awkward joke, every instance of eye contact, every exchange of a genuine honest to Satan smile, had the Siblings of the abbey biting and clawing at the walls in envy.

You did your best to appear unaffected by it, preferring to keep your head down and say as little as possible when around them. Nothing to suggest you felt superior to them (not that you did anyhow). Regardless, you were fairly certain that, if it were up to them, they would bring back human sacrifice for the sole purpose of getting you out of the picture.

Thank Satanas, then, that none were present to witness the latest event.

There Terzo stood, his normally focused and powerful gaze fighting hard to be maintained. It was abundantly clear that he wanted to look anywhere but at you. Still, he resolved to keep that nervous on his face. His gorgeous, paintless face.

It was startling to say the least. Actually, no, scratch that: To truly say the least would be to just stand there, gaping like a goldfish as you failed to find the right words – any words – that truly encapsulated even a fraction of what you felt. Which, for better or for worse, was exactly what you found yourself doing.

After all, almost nobody outside of his own family had seen Terzo without his papal paints. They may as well have been tattooed on him the moment he’d perfected the design all those years ago! Not even the paramours he’d collected since then had gotten a glimpse of his bare face, despite the many opportunities they’d had from the nights spent in his quarters. The mystery as to why this was left plenty of room for speculation and imagination, creating a juicy mystique that Siblings and ghouls loved to salivate and chew on.

Admittedly, you yourself occasionally wondered what his deal was, but you ultimately chose not to ponder on it. If Terzo liked how he looked in makeup more than he did without, then that was his business. Honestly, it never even really occurred to you to ask him about it even as the two of you grew closer.

But as you took in the visage before you, you felt you had a good theory going: If Terzo went about the Ministry like this, he’d never know a moment’s peace again!

"Is . . . Is it . . . okay?" he asked quietly. Okay? Okay!? Satan’s taint, if it weren’t for the very apparent tension, you might’ve thought the man was teasing you! The man looked like an old movie star, all debonair and dashing!

The fight to respond in a timely (and coherent) manner was difficult, but you managed to stammer out, “More than okay.” You gulped down some shakiness. “Y-you’re very . . .handsome.”

Internally, you cringed at how wobbly you’d come across but thankfully that seemed to be enough. The warmth in your cheeks intensified as the nerves in his smile carefully evaporated, along with a slight tension in his shoulders.

Unfortunately, the consciousness did not remain, and almost immediately you found yourself delegating focus to other things. Like the beauty mark that lay just beneath the right corner of his pleasantly pink lips. Lips that were saying, “— if you would be interested, of course.”

You blinked. Were you interested? Wait . . . Interested in what, exactly?!

“Y-yeah, sure. I’m down,” you chirped before you could stop yourself.

While you tried your damndest not to look mortified or embarrassed, Terzo looked delighted. Possibly even elated.

“Oh, eccellente!” he clapped his palms together before offering you a mix of a nod and bow. That sharp characteristic of his eyes returned once more, pinning your form as he purred, “I look forward to it.”

Oh, fuck. “Can’t wait!” you replied. Of course, now the concept of urgency settled in.

As you walked back to your room for the night, you knew three things to be certain: The first was that that face of Terzo’s would likely be making many appearances in your dreams tonight. The second thing, branching off this, him showing you his face was a sign you’d let things get far too far.

And the third thing? You had to put an end to your exchanges ASAP.

Sure, you’d peppered this into your thoughts many times before, but after this? This moment of extreme vulnerability on Terzo’s part? No more peppering: It was time to actually pile in everything you had and outright reject Terzo’s advances. No room for stuttering or bending or swaying or swooning and second-guessing!

You repeated this like a mantra over and over, praying that the resolution would still be there in the morning. And it was – but only after you took an icy shower. You’d been spot on when you anticipated that gorgeous, gorgeous face invading your dreams. What you hadn’t counted on, though, was the nature of what all went on:

Snowflakes catching on his lashes as you ice skated on a pond (the power of dreams erasing his waking world clumsiness); his lips smiling around a forkful of the pasta you’d just cooked together; his broad nose nuzzling lovingly into your hair during a quiet night in; those entrancing eyes focused on the movie playing before you as his arm settled warmly around you. It gave you further comfort as you pressed into his side, so perfectly slotted that it was as though you only ever belonged there, right next to him.

You regretted disregarding the alarm bells that blared at the start of this whole nonsense, and now look where that got you: You needed a cold cleanse just because you saw a man’s unpainted face! You were worse than a pent-up Victorian! Did you really want to prolong things until you’d start to "feel" those smirking lips pressed against the column of your neck, or “feel” those large hands skirt along your form, leaving a deliciously pleasant fire in their wake?

Certainly, that might’ve made for a good night’s sleep in theory. But in reality? It was a nightmare in the making!

It was bad enough just wanting to do all those dreamy things and more with the equally dreamy Papa. But that, of course, meant the "more" part would eventually come around. After all, your waking life already wasn't too terribly far off from the things that went on in the dream.

Your days weren't filled with skating on the pond or chatting over romantic dinners but at this rate, they very well could be a possibility. In an ideal world, the wait for these things to happen would be filled with anticipation. But the sad, shower-cold reality was that this wait was weighed down by dread and predictions of what was to come. After all, for all Terzo's patience and kindness, even he had limits. Sometime soon, his patience with your inexactness would run out and he would come to collect. Experience told you that was just how it was.

You may not have had a pursuer as passionate as Terzo, but you’d had enough instances that ran about the same: There was that high, that thrill in an almost honeymoon period-like chase. Then there came the actual vulnerability where you’d tell them of the conditions that came with a relationship – the conditions that came with you. And yeah, they’d start off insisting that nothing about that changed how they felt about you . . . But then they’d realize your condition would outlast their gimmick.

You felt your face twist with displeasure as sentences of the past began slipping through the cracks and into the forefront of your mind.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Calm down already.”

“Just relax already.”

Then came the pain (both kinds); the giving up; and then you were right back where you started: Alone together, with a body that hated you that you hated right back. The only real difference would be how much your weariness increased, making you more and more reluctant to play along with the idea of any potential romance. Meanwhile, to them, it was a game: You were just playing hard to get, that was all. But you’d surely stop when they and they alone were able to conquer you, to cure you.

Did you really want to wait around and see Terzo become like that?

Your stomach twisted at the thought.

No. Absolutely not. You weren’t sure your heart could bear it, much less your body. Besides, if word got out that he’d shown you his face, then it’d be all over for you. You’d rather incur the wrath of rejecting what many would kill for than face what might happen if they learned how far you’d gotten by doing nothing at all. At least with the former, there was a chance the Siblings let you keep your bones intact.

You had a plan as you prepared yourself to step out and face the day: Keep calm and function as normal until the chance to say those simple words hit you: “Terzo, I am not interested in you in any way, shape, or form. While you are attractive, I am not attracted to you. Please leave me alone from now on.”

A devastating lie, perhaps, but a necessary one. One you would need to deliver by tonight.

But hey, the day was still quite young. There was plenty of time for you to find the courage, right?

. . . Well, you didn’t find it in the hallway when you heard that oh-so familiar, cheerful call of, "Buongiorno, Mia Sorellina !", prompting you to pick up speed and disappear down a different corridor. Nor was it there when you caught sight of a black flutter of robe. It could’ve been a wandering Cardinal’s cassock but you weren’t prepared to stick around and find out.

And even though you spent nearly the entirety of afternoon mass, head bowed, praying for the Dark One to simply grab the strength and shove it into you, you didn’t feel any more emboldened. Apparently, your body meant it when it didn’t allow for anything to enter it – intangible things included, it seemed.

You groaned inwardly from both disappointment and discomfort as you lifted yourself off the kneeler and back into the pew. There was also the added stressor of feeling sets of multiple eyes on you: From Siblings stewing in envy; from ghouls who wanted to take a gander at the Sister who had flirty Papa III wrapped around her finger; and, worst of all, from Terzo himself.

The one time you dared to look up at his seated form on the altar, you caught a hint of a small smile directed at you.

You tried to return it, at least enough to suggest to him you were fine and happy to see him despite your earlier actions, but the sorry attempt lost any pretense of pleasantness when your eyes got caught on something: Even in the sea of his dark robes, you could make out the dull shine of leather gloves poised in his lap. Helping them to stand out more, however, was how each fingertip was adorned with a golden nail.

Correction: A golden claw. The fine barbs would fit right in on the hand of a ghoul or perhaps some other dæmonic creature.

Normally you were fascinated by the accessories but in your increasingly unwell state, these gloves intimidated you. It was like you had been reduced to a fearful prey animal and all you saw was a threat.

A thought, sharp as those gilded talons, slashed beyond your imagination and into the walls of your most sensitive place. They pierced and drilled into the intimate area just long enough for you to know they were there – both in your mind and your body – shanking their way into a place nothing was meant to enter, let alone something so dangerous.

Although a primal need to defend yourself shot through your nervous system, you were too incapacitated to do much more than body-jolting inhale. Your only defense, you had long-since learned, was to freeze. Your brain buzzed in an unpleasant manner as you started to come down from the imaginary fingering.

“You’re overreacting,” scoffed the voice of a past partner. “It’s just a finger.” You hadn’t spoken to them in years, but the disregard in their voice remained fresh, further embittering you to the fact that that was what managed to creep into you rather than the bravery you so desperately needed.

You had to pray once more that Terzo hadn’t noticed anything. A change in your already shifty demeanor, the way your legs twitched inward but not out of lust (not when Primo’s sermon was focused more on wrath today), or how your body’s momentary lurch. Much like your prayer for strength, though, you suspected this plea went ignored. You didn’t need to look up and see Terzo’s smile falter to think that.

The moment Papa Primo dismissed the congregation, you made quick work of the camouflage offered by the uniforms of habits and lace.

When a quick glance back allowed you to catch sight of a confused-looking Papa Terzo, you forced yourself to swallow the pathetic truth: You were never going to find the courage to even say sorry, let alone that you no longer wanted to see him.

What you did find – or rather, what found you – was an overwhelming torrent of grief and frustration as you flung yourself into your room and back into the bed where your day had started with a massive hitch. You shoved your face into your flattening pillow and hoped there was just enough down still left in it to muffle up your screams. And tears. Belial, you told yourself you wouldn’t cry over this sort of thing anymore. Over anyone. You should’ve been used to this type of thing by now, so what was the use in wasting energy like this?

What was the point in dwelling on how nice it all was, how nice Terzo made you feel, or how you secretly looked forward to your conversations, no matter how bizarre or intellectual? You gained nothing but the label of immature whenever you indulged in the schoolgirlish feeling of letting Terzo accompany you in the halls. Indulgence might have been encouraged by the Church, but not when it hurt or disrupted the paths of others’ own pursuits.

There was absolutely no way what you had done wasn’t going to inevitably end in pain of some kind, be it physical on your part or mental and emotional on Terzo’s.

But then again, maybe . . . Maybe you didn’t have to do this after all? Maybe you could make peace with where things were headed. You wouldn’t be able to let him inside of you in the traditional sense, no, but surely that just meant that you would just have to . . . adjust things? Yeah . . . Yeah, maybe that could work . . .

Maybe I could earn his love in other ways? Prove that I’m not ungrateful and won’t waste his feelings? Intrusive visions of you “earning” that love projected onto the walls of your mind. Under more pleasant, more normal circumstances, some of the ideas would’ve been a delight for you in some way. Par for the course of a healthy relationship.

But the possibility that these might be the only ways to grant you worthiness, to allow you to deserve Terzo’s attention and love, to deserve Terzo . . . It felt tainted. It felt like an even worse lie to perform. It burned like a poison through your mind and heart before becoming incorporated with all the other pains rising to the surface.

The knock at your door was a welcome distraction, but only long enough for you to forget the possibility of it being Terzo on the other side.

You contemplated pretending that nobody was home before a muffled voice said, “I can smell you through the door, y’know.” Ah. A ghoul. Better in that it wasn’t Terzo, but worse in that you couldn’t avoid them. To your chagrin, the trek from your bed to the door wasn’t nearly long enough to look presentable or like you hadn’t been crying.

You could practically feel their eyes through the mask, studying your tear-stained ones as they smelled the salt that had settled on your cheeks. Nonetheless, they continued ever professionally with, “Papa III has sent me to come retrieve you.” From the way they barely contained their tail’s amused wagging, it was clear that they were getting a rise out of the insinuations of the invitation.

You may as well have been off to the gallows (or worse, Sister’s office) with how dour your disposition was. Being a part of the Emeritus line, Terzo’s chambers were further away from your humble digs in the Siblings’ quarters. Still, it felt as though there wasn’t nearly enough time from your door to his for you to concoct whatever it was you could say or do. Which, to be fair, wasn’t really much to begin with anyway. You were screwed, your fate sealed the moment the ghoul knocked on one of a pair of the large, wooden doors.

“Entrare,” the room’s occupant answered. Your heart beat icy pumps as you and your escort obliged.

You’d never been inside Terzo’s quarters before, not that you hadn’t been invited. Granted, the first few times had been in the very beginning, before he’d realized that his usual tricks weren’t going to work on an unusual suspect. He never brought it back up again, even as the two of you appeared to grow more comfortable with one another.

It was a shame, then, that you were too possessed with anxiety to properly take it all in: In another, more pleasant mental space, you would have adored the large, framed vintage posters that decorated the rich purple walls, or giggled at just how much purple and gold this guy actually used in one admittedly spacious but still single space.

You couldn’t properly see it, being in what appeared to be more of a lounging area (really, how big was the average Emeritus’s room compared to the lowly Siblings’ quarters?), but you could just make out what appeared to be a bedroom down a small coridor. From what little you could see, there was a bed made of rich, dark wood with a velvety canopy.

Dramatic, but fitting for someone like Terzo, you mused in a split second of clarity before the gravity of the situation returned with ten times the weight as before. After all, here you were, standing in the boudoir of the man whom you’d been avoiding all day. Avoiding because you’d failed to do your due diligence and warn him against pursuing you. And there was his damn bed right freaking there – !!!

That prey animal instinct from mass began to skitter back as you instinctively began to look for ways out of this. Maybe you could leap out that Satanic Tiffany glass window? You’d be killing two birds with one stone if you did: You could get out of a confrontation, and the action would surely unnerve Terzo enough for him to draw back, right?

However, the make-believe agility and will to do so quickly dissolved out of you the moment you heard the voice you’d been avoiding all day once more. “Grazie, Wisp,” he addressed the ghoul. From the sounds of it, he must’ve been in a room off to the side, away from view. Despite Terzo not being visible to them, the ghoul still offered a bow in respect before taking their leave (though not without their nosiness prompting them to sneak one last look into the room).

You winced in sync with the door clicking shut, the soft padding of footsteps on the plush carpeting thundered in your ears as Terzo made his appearance. Even though he made sure to keep some space between the both of you, you still felt increasingly like a trapped animal.

As much as you wanted to cast your eyes down and pretend to be intrigued by the fact that the flooring was black instead of some shade of purple, acting as though nothing was amiss was your best course of action. Even if you felt your breathing hitch both with uneasiness and infatuation over the fact that, yet again, the man’s face was bare of his usual paints. It did, however, carry a small look of concern. While you felt guilty, perhaps him being worried would be easier to work with than him being outright upset?

You tried to predict the sort of things a concerned Terzo might say and what responses would be appropriate when you noticed something else about him: His clothing. You didn’t expect Terzo to be lounging in his own living space in his robes but even then, he tended to favor going about in his suit. This was the first time you’d seen him in anything that could be considered casual and not relating to his position as a Papa. The first time you’d seen him in pants that were actually tailored, actually! It was questionable if a men’s blouse made from what might’ve been silk could qualify as “informal”, but your brain was currently unable to drum up that inquiry.

Instead, it was too busy focusing on how the top was being worn: With only the top two buttons undone, the edge of what was more likely than not an absolute thicket of black chest hairs was visible. (If you were a stronger person – a better, more functioning one – you would’ve absolutely braved that thicket like a safari explorer.)

You gulped, realizing that maintaining eye contact was going to be harder than usual. If you were quicker about keeping your wits, you might’ve tried to speak up first. Maybe with a “Hi, Papa. How ‘bout that afternoon mass, amirite?” But Terzo beat you to it.

“. . . How are you?” he inquired. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of accusation in his tone. “Are you doing alright today?”

I’m anxious to the point of sickness and contemplating vandalism with your window, you wanted to say.

“’M alright. Just tired, I guess,” you shrugged. Judging by the way Terzo’s lips pressed into a thin line, he probably didn’t believe you. However, if there was anything you’d learned in your time together, it was that Terzo wasn’t exactly the type to prod. It was easy to assume from the flamboyant persona that he was far nosier than he really was. But the unfortunate and lovely reality was that Terzo trusted you. Worse was that he trusted you enough to both see his true face, and to tell him how you felt when you were comfortable. Your stomach dropped when you remembered the fact you’d been crying before this. Were your eyes still reddened and puffy? Did he notice?

“Vedo,” he replied before slowly crossing his arms. "Well, if that is the case, then perhaps we must do a bit of a raincheck for the evening, yes?”

Your brows lightly twitched in a nonplussed fashion. It was then that you finally noticed the full scope of the room you were in. It was more like a den than an actual lounging area, complete with a TV on a DVD loading screen and a couch sat before it.

You forgot to blink as it hit you. This was what Terzo had been referring to during his face reveal yesterday: He was asking you to watch a movie with him! And you, in your lovesick stupor, had agreed wholeheartedly to it!

Logic (and a sense of cowardice self-preservation) would have dictated that you leap at the opportunity to leave. You needed time to regroup. Maybe make a sacrifice to Satanas in the hopes that that might win you some courage to do what needed to be done.

But before you could commit to it, you reminded yourself: You needed to act unbothered. You’d already aroused suspicion in Terzo as it was. If Terzo thought you really wanted to watch a movie with him, as you had outright stated, then you needed to watch a movie with him. All you had to do was sit down at a reasonable distance and appear completely invested. Too invested to possibly think about how you wanted to tangle your fingers into his chest hair. Or how you absolutely shouldn’t want to do that at all.

“N-no, I’m good!” you insisted a little too eagerly. “I can stay up, I’m not that tired.”

He quirked a brow but questioned no further. “If you insist. Come: I have a small setup.”

The setup being an oddly-shaped popcorn bucket (why . . . did it look kind of like a pope hat?) filled with cheese doodles and a bottle of red wine to be shared between two glasses. You took only the smallest handful of doodles to be courteous but turned down the wine under the claim that you were trying to cut back. The reality was you couldn’t risk letting alcohol lubricate you into either melting down or melting into his lap as you both settled in.

The Man Who Laughs, read the title card. A name just vague enough to sound familiar though you didn’t really know a thing about it. When Terzo briefly explained that its main character, Gwynplaine, had been the visual inspiration for The Joker from Batman, you expected some early horror flick. Perhaps being treated to an hour or two’s worth of a spiteful man seeking revenge and wreaking havoc on the innocent. Odd choice in what you could only describe as a movie date, but you were already in too deep and far too high-strung to comment.

But as the film progressed, you found yourself surprised. Not only because the plot was far from what you’d predicted, but also because you also hadn’t been expecting a sense of solidarity. Sure, you’d never been a stage performer whose disfigurement made him a laughingstock to the pauper and nobleman alike. But nonetheless, Gwynplaine’s plight resonated with you. Something about being an introverted, soft-hearted person who feared their worthiness of love was thwarted by something they had no control over.

When you’d settled on the couch that evening, your goal had been to merely pretend to take the movie in. But the tenderness exhibited by the film’s two main love interests made that all but impossible for you. You now existed in a strange and uncomfortable middle ground: Too invested to keep your wits, but too aware of how uncomfortable the relation was. If this were some vintage horror flick, there might’ve arguably been a chance to hide any visible anxieties as suspense-born fear.

But between the “smiling” man swooning into the beautiful Dea’s touch, to him hiding into himself when his insecurities got the better of him, you just kept being reminded of your own circumstances, and how Terzo had given you his full face when you couldn’t even give him the truth.

A wave of self-directed disgust began to boil in you, causing you to briefly tic. Otherwise, though, you remained stiff. It was a fair film, after all, and it was a shame that you were corrupting yet one more thing that was dear to Terzo by equating it with your own problems.

But inside you were the beginnings of a nor’easter of biblical proportions: Deluges depicted you forcing yourself through your fears in a pathetic effort to prove to him he could still love you; the voices of failed relationships past split through your mind like thunderclaps; even the howling winds sounded like your whimpers whenever you trapped yourself in the bathroom, determined but failing to conquer Q-tips and dilators and even your own pinky finger. The flood they all created sloshed and battered about your insides and squeezed at your lungs, brutalizing your mind.

Just relax already, they said.

You’re just being difficult! they had accused.

Quit holding out! they demanded.

The film became less and less visible to you as you tried to steady your breathing and cling to something inside. Please, Dark Lord, great Old One, you prayed once more. Did you want silence? Freedom? For the moment to end, or for everything to pause? You couldn’t tell with all this noise. Please –

Forget it.

Despite being born from the storm, it hung over it, breaking through everything and silencing all. Even your prayer felt muted compared to how deafening the command sounded in your head. The voice did not belong to the Dark One, however. It didn’t even belong to the other Big Guy. You knew this voice, actually. It had been years since you’d last seen or heard from its owner, but you still heard it nearly every day since. And they always said the same thing every time:

No one is going to put up with this if you can't fix it!

You fought to contain any reaction from reaching the surface, but you failed: You shuddered. Violently so. You had to quickly cover it up with an overcorrection of tensing, but you thought you’d managed.

You didn’t even have time to make up an excuse when you caught Terzo moving from the corner of your eye. He was getting closer – no: His arm was getting closer. Angling to wrap around you.

There shouldn’t have been anything intimidating about the idea of Terzo, coming at you with 30% of his hairy chest out, possibly aiming to get some over-the-shoulder action. Unfortunately for you, at this point, you were beyond intimidated. This was made clear with your reaction of jerking away, emitting a gaspy, yelpy whimper you never knew you could even make.

And for a moment, everything but the film froze.

It was an odd juxtaposition, the swelling orchestral music playing as you both just stared at one another without a single hint of romance. You truly were like Gwynplaine now, hands covering your mouth as your eyes stared wide. Terzo’s own eyes being wide was rather commonplace, but the way he stared at you now made you feel uneasy. It was almost as though those big eyes of his were suddenly seeing everything in high definition, able to see now see every crack in the structure that was you.

The soundtrack could’ve played on for an eternity before his low voice quietly spoke above it.

“Mia cara. . .? Are you okay?” He sounded even more uncertain than he did yesterday when he asked you about his face. When you failed to respond, he tried much softer: “(Y/N).”

Your breath hitched, icy and cold in your burning throat. You could count the times he’d used your actual name on one hand. Nearly all of them had been during the very beginning of your interactions. Back when he was trying to prove the extent of his interest. Otherwise, it was always a term of endearment: “Mia sorellina” or “Tesoro mio” or “Piccina mia” and so on.

Always “mio/a”. Always his, even when you had no right to be. But now, as he stared at you, having to resort to using your actual name, he must’ve been starting to realize that . . .

Even though it had done you no favors this entire evening, you let panic guide you to spring into action. You stammered and struggled for words as you tried to make yourself untense.

“I-I’m – I’m sorry, I was just so enthralled –” Did that word even fit here? “I was really into the movie, the sudden movement startled me and –” But it wasn’t so sudden, was it? “I’m really sorry, I just –”

But you just what? You did not know, and it was extremely apparent the more you talked.

“I thought you were cold,” Terzo gently reasoned once your words tapered off. At this, the arm you’d feared was coming to corner you shook gently. In his hand was the edge of a throw blanket you’d been leaning against. “I was going to offer you some cover. I thought you’d been stiff this entire while, and then you shuddered, so I . . .”

His movements were notably slower now. Felt the need to be more careful, even if all he was doing was reaching for the remote to finally pause the ongoing show.

His eyes were less wide as well, but what they left in their wake was a firm yet troubled stare. It wasn’t meant to make you feel so afraid, but the feeling was there regardless.

“(Y/N),” he stated carefully. “If you are not comfortable, then I need you to tell me. I am a big boy, I can understand boundaries. If I’ve been moving too fast or made you uncomfortable in any way, I –”

“The problem isn’t you, it’s me,” you interrupted. God. Satan. Whomever had stuck around to witness this travesty. Being the truth didn’t make it seem any less lame. And judging by how Terzo’s demeanor shifted into being unimpressed, he clearly thought so as well.

“To be brutally frank, Sorella, I was hoping for a bit more . . . honesty.” The delivery of that last word faltered somewhat, but it was more than enough to provide a healthy punch to your gut. Actually hearing Terzo express disappointment towards you was far more devastating than anything your mind could have concocted. He’d already implied on multiple occasions how he’d often found himself on the shorter end of a seemingly mutual trust. Now you were just another person who’d failed to uphold their end.

While true, something in you felt the need to still fight back.

“No, you don’t get it,” you hoarsely insisted against the tightening of your throat. Your fingers immediately set to biting into your arms as they crossed.

“Then help me to!” he finally demanded. “You’ve been acting strange ever since yesterday, so what? Is it me after all? My face? What?!” The frenzy, while warranted, made everything inside you curl inward. Everything suddenly felt too big, too loud for the decreasing space inside you. Your lungs couldn’t expand enough, and you could practically feel the hurricane inside you banging at your eyes to be let out. Your teeth sank into your lips just as your nails sank even more into your arms. Anything to bite back and fight back what was quickly becoming inevitable.

He must have realized what he’d done, or perhaps he just used his eyes to see you practically shrinking. His expression uncrumpled into something more tender and apologetic, but creases of quiet frustration remained.

“Cara. (Y/N),” he corrected, his more patient voice from before returning. “I apologize for my outburst. Really. I do. But . . . Please: What is going on?”

If you opened your mouth, you were fucked.

“I cannot fix things if you don’t tell me what needs to be fixed.”

Soft like dynamite. The dam splintered, it cracked, and then it collapsed entirely. Your body was never one to take things in or hold them, after all.

“You can’t fix me . . .” It was quiet and light and it weighed down on your insides like no other.

Terzo’s brows gathered. “. . . Perdono?”

“I said you can’t fix me, okay?!” you repeated, your sentence made jagged and uneven by its sobbing delivery. The sudden explosion left the normally calm Papa taken aback. His lips parted, surely about to question what you could possibly mean, but the flood was unrelenting as it poured from your eyes and lips.

“I’m sorry! I lied! I lied, I lied, I lied, okay!? My body doesn’t work, okay, it’s fucking broken, and I knew it all along but I couldn’t tell you because I’m a f-fucking coward a-and I’m s-s-elfish – And – !” But this point, though, your throat far too tight and painful to even try continuing. Besides, you’d said all of what mattered, right? That you’d lied to him by omission, that you were broken, and that you were a goddamn selfish coward for pretending otherwise.

The truth hurt but you deserved this pain, having only yourself to blame that you were experiencing this on this man’s couch instead of in the privacy of your room. Everything in you screamed to get up and run back there, in fact, but you lacked the will to do anything other than stay put in a near-blinding fit of crying, probably fucking up the sofa with all the tears you were leaking onto it. You might’ve stayed that way even longer if it weren’t for a sudden nudging at your knee.

Apparently at some point during your pity party, Terzo had taken the opportunity to get up and . . . retrieve a box of tissues? Not leave? Or call for a ghoul to come and get you? Actually, that made a bit of sense: He was too much of a gentleman to kick somebody out while they were crying, no matter how awkward the circumstances.

As much as the punishing part of you wanted to reject it, the suffocation of your snotty nose was intolerable. You accepted the tissue box and dug in until your face stung with how much you had to wipe at it.

Terzo meanwhile resumed his seat, making sure to allow you space as you let out whatever nonverbal emotion you needed to let out. He didn’t force you to talk – not that you could, remaining a coughing, hiccupping mess even as the emotional tempest began to recede.

In fact, he himself didn’t say a word until you’d managed to work yourself down to pathetic, wet sniffles and tremors.

“. . . You know you’re not broken, right?” he asked. You almost didn’t hear it about you

You sniffled, perplexed. Terzo watched patiently as he continued, “Look: I don’t know exactly what’s going on. But what I do know is that you make me laugh. I like talking to you. I like talking with you. I just. Like you. So clearly, something about you must work, si?”

You shook your head. No. No, that’s what they all said. Maybe not like that, but they all said one of two things:

Either they claimed this didn’t bother them and that they could work with your condition, only to later realize they couldn’t keep up the lie; or they would ask to go your separate ways. He hadn’t done the latter yet, but after everything you’d put him through, he at least deserved specification to make that decision.

“No, I mean,” you took in a deep, shaky inhale. Mostly to calm the discomfort. “I mean. My body – It literally doesn’t – I have a condition, Terzo.” You paused just enough to let the words sink in – for the both of you. It never got easier to say no matter how many times you said it. “I can’t have sex. Not in a normal way, anyway. So, like. No penetrating or whatever. Not even, like, a tongue. Shit hurts so I don’t – I can’t bother with it. And like.” You twisted your fingers. “That feels kind of antithetical to the whole ‘living deliciously’ vibe or whatever you’re supposed to be promoting. So . . .”

So there. That was it. In a sick sort of way, you did feel somewhat of a weight lifted. The heavy, gross feeling of rejection still sat within you, but you had a familiarity with it. In time, it, too, would fizzle back into the recesses of your mind. You could . . . live with it there . . .

“. . . So what?” Terzo practically huffed, barely fighting back a smirk, one you couldn’t tell if it was from his own words, or in response to the stunned expression you now wore. “First off – and forgive me for missing any point – but you do realize that the whole of that whole ‘living deliciously’ shit comes from making choices, right? If sex is what you’re talking about, I don’t necessarily need sex. Is nice, yes, but. It’s not my whole fucking life, you know.”

. . . Well, no, but . . . To be fair, that rockstar persona certainly made that easy to not consider. Before you could argue this, he continued.

“Second off,” Terzo held up two fingers. “You do realize sex is more than just insert-dick-in-pussy, yes? Your Papa is . . . Well, he knows he is no blushing virgin, we shall say. No offense.” (At this, your expression blanked. Bemusement was superior to distress, though, you supposed.) “But do you really think that I think there is only one way to make sex count? Cara, per favore: Sex is sex! So long as everyone is having fun – and consenting! – then what is there to worry about?”

“E in terzo luogo,” he added a third finger before giving all three a wiggle, “do you really think that I would do all this if all I wanted was a quick fuck? I mean, think about it, piccina. Give me more credit.”

Well, when he put it like that . . . Your cheeks and ears burned less from humiliation, but from a much softer breed of embarrassment.

“Well . . . no . . .” you admitted. “B-but going back to the choice thing – I thought the idea was to make choices that don’t hurt anybody.”

He nodded with agreement. “Questo è vero. But here we are. And no one got hurt, si?”

You bit your lip, “But . . . I lied to you. I wasted your time, and – ” At this, Terzo’s hand rose, signaling for you to shut your yap.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, dolcezza,” he spoke, his features tame but stern. “You did not waste my time. Okay? I gave you my time. And I wouldn’t ask for a moment of it back. And do you know why?” He didn’t even allow you enough time to make a snarky response: “Because I chose to spend it with you. Even if I’d known, I’d choose you. And why would I not? Sei una bellisima compagnia, and I already love what we do together, even if it’s not fucking. Now, have I thought about us fucking? Yes! Often!” (You felt your blush deepening at his rather blunt confession.)

“But I have also thought about things we have talked about; things I would like for us to talk about; things I would like for us to do – besides each other, I mean. But it here’s a fourth thing.”

No fourth finger this time. Just him offering you his hand. You felt every particle in your abdomen squish and flip over the simple gesture, but curiosity made you pushed through to accept it. Even as his other hand came over on top of yours, any trapped feeling you might’ve had mere moments before never came forward. If anything, you felt . . . here? And for as buzzy as “here” felt, you didn’t want to run from it.

Terzo gave your hand a grounding squeeze as his eyes remained locked with your own. “I’m never gonna do something that hurts you. Alright?” he swore. “And if I do? Then I need you, I beg of you to tell me. Because if you don’t want to do anything, then we don’t do anything. We do nothing but enjoy one another’s company. That is plenty enough for me, dolcezza, I can promise you this. Do you understand?”

You gulped. You didn’t even realize your eyes had widened until you found yourself needing to blink back a fresh, much smaller batch of warm tears. You could practically feel your mind scrambling, trying to reference past experiences that could help you work off of this. Maybe proof he was lying, an argument you could present – something to make this all make sense!

But it found nothing of the sort. No one, in all those times, had ever offered a third thing, let alone one where you felt like you had an actual say in how things went.

Should . . . Should you nod? Could you be trusted to make the right decision here? You nodded. It was uneasy and uncertain, but the smile it gave Terzo seemed to be the proper answer.

“Good girl,” he affirmed. Oh. Yep. That was the right answer, you decided with a jittery exhale.

“Now!” Terzo exclaimed before giving the back of your hand a gentle pat and releasing it. “If it’s alright with you, I would like to finish our movie. Call me a firm nerd but I’ve waited all night to hear your thoughts on this, no joking.”

The change in atmosphere was dizzying as Terzo readjusted himself into a more comfortable position, as though you hadn’t just bared your soul and literal intimacies to him and had him respond in the most genuine and affirming way possible. Not as though it were nothing, but more like it was just not nearly as distressing as what you’d prepared yourself to face. With the storm settling and the fog of anxiety clearing, it became increasingly apparent just how discolored your thoughts had become by your past experiences. Of course Terzo wouldn’t be so rigid about sex: It went against everything he stood for, everything he was!

Of course, complete acceptance on your end wouldn’t be immediate. But you could work with this. Though, there was admittedly one last concern you had before movie night resumed.

“B-but.” You stopped short as Terzo turned his attention back to you. You had to remind yourself that the nerves you felt now were nothing compared to before. You could do this. “But . . . What if I . . . do want to do something?”

A bushy brow at the insinuation.

“N-not now! Not immediately,” you clarified. Suddenly the fringe of the throw blanket required your attention as you began fidgeting with it. “I just . . . You know.” You gave an awkward shrug and glanced up at him, a look of pleading twinkling in your eyes as you hoped he understood what you meant. Not any time soon, perhaps, but . . . Some day? You watched as the right corner of his mouth, the one where that darling beauty mark lay, rose up into a smile.

“Then, cuore mio, we talk about it,” he answered simply. “And, if you still want to ‘do something’ after?” He leaned in, the warmth of his smile heating into a devilish smirk.

“We do it. Whatever that may look like for us.”

You nearly blacked out when the bastard had the audacity to wink at you.

He then clicked play, shifting back into place as Gwynplaine and Dea came back to life. By the time you’d managed to regain your composure and refocus on the movie, Dea was cradling Gwynplaine’s tearful face in her hands. Assuming you hadn’t missed anything, this was the first time the poor soul had actually ever let her touch his face in all its deformed glory. And judging by her jubilant reaction, Dea couldn’t have been happier.

Good for him, you quietly delighted. It was absolutely what he deserved after all that time spent torturing himself over nothing. As you resituated yourself back into the cushions, you briefly noted how the voices from before, while still there, were much quieter. They lacked the power provided by the storm, and any time one of them seemed to try and get louder, you’d hear Terzo’s voice smother it out.

I’d choose you, he affirmed.

Good girl, he praised.

You know you’re not broken, right? he reminded.

It gave you goosebumps, though not the kind that the throw blanket could pat out. But you had a theory.

It seemed that the Old One had finally chosen now to put some courage in you. Better late than never, you supposed as you began to inch closer and closer along the couch until you could feel the heat radiating off Terzo’s body. The proximity in itself was thrilling enough, but the boldness didn’t stop there.

You tested the waters, leaning a little further into him, only for his arm to calmly come around you. Whatever space that remained was quickly closed as you felt yourself being tugged and cushioned into his side. You had only a nanosecond to catch the barely-contained smile on his face before you practically melted into place. Terzo’s touch, his scent, his warmth, his everything flooded into you, filling you with a simultaneous calmness and a vigor you hadn’t felt in years.

Your dream from before had been right after all: You belonged here, right next to your Papa.

#the band ghost #ghost band x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus x reader #papa terzo x reader #cw vaginismus #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x fem!reader #terzo x fem!reader #papa terzo #papa emeritus x fem!reader #stg if Copia gives me any hassle even vaguely similar to what i had to go through with this asshole #i'm getting my goddamn gwimbly ghoul gun #fun fact: i could not for the life of me recall Terzo's speech patterns when i needed them most so i took to youtube #and instead kept having to pause because i kept blushing at the stupidest shit he'd say #it's the Voice man #anyway go watch The Man Who Laughs if only to see a dog named Homo #and to see Conrad Veidt be an absolute babyboy who is disgustingly smitten with Dea #i would've picked a sluttier movie but honestly that movie made my heart so slutty

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youwouldntlietopapa · 2 years ago

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OooOoooooOOoo I saw your reblog the kiss prompts thing?? I feel like Copia would 100% say the "I think this is the part where you kiss me" prompt lmaooo

I love his (s)ass

Okay, I hope you'll forgive me for changing it up just a little. I had an idea I couldn't shake and it fit so well. Includes: Mutual pining, separated, sexting, masturbation +18 only, MDNI

______________________________________________________________

It was late and Copia knew it when he sent the first text. Still, you were almost always awake as late as he was. Even when you were apart. Either way, tonight he needed to talk enough to try.

He'd spent several hours trying to find something to distract him from thinking of you, in his bed, waiting for him. Wearing one of his shirts, with that coy smile. Even that thought was enough to get him going again. Hellfire, he needed this tour to be over.

At least the Dark Lord was feeling merciful. His text was answered almost immediately.

All it will take is one word, he thinks. One word and he will be on his way back. Damn the consequences. Any punishment they could offer would be worth it just to have you in his arms.

What he wants when he gets home is nearly identical to what he wants right now. To strip off any clothing that comes between the two of you and then to drag you to bed. To fuck you until both of you are too exhausted to move. And then to sleep the peaceful, perfect sleep he only finds with you in his arms.

He can feel the silk of the red dress in his hands, pressed against his skin. He can smell your perfume lingering in the air. Copia strains against his sweatpants and he palms himself through the fabric.

He groans shamelessly in the quiet hotel room. A dark spot of precum already showing on the front of his trousers. It's not as good as having you, of having you touch him, but desperate times...

Copia leaves his phone on the bed and gets up with a growl. Whoever is interrupting your conversation had better have a good reason. Like the building being on fire. Or Satan himself asking for you personally at the front desk. He curses under his breath the entire way from the bed to the door, swearing a solemn oath that if it's one of the Ghouls having a laugh, he'll send them back to the pit personally.

Another round of rather frantic sounding knocks only deepens his scowl. "I'm coming!" He barks. At least, he would be, if this stronzo hadn't interrupted.

The door opens just enough for him to look out, glaring, ready to demand an explanation. Instead, he freezes. His mouth hanging open in stunned silence. And the door slowly swings open further.

In the hallway, in the red dress you know he loves, you wait with your phone. Stepping closer with a cheeky smile. Even as your heart thunders in your ears and the urge to throw yourself at him is nearly overwhelming.

"I heard some stronzo was trying to knock your door down. I came to tell them to fuck off."

Copia's mouth opens and closes a few times, staring at you like he's seen a ghost. "H-how???"

"I caught the earliest flight I could. If I had to spend one more day without you, I was going to lose my mind." You take another step closer, pressing up against him. Licking your lips and running your hands over his chest. "Now... I think this is the part where you kiss me."

#inbox meme #ask prompts #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x fem!reader #MDNI

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thewitcheswitch89 · 8 months ago

Text

Ghostober 2024

by @kroas-adtam

Read on AO3 or Wattpad

Sequel to “Mary on a Cross”. You can read Part 1 here...

Tickle you internally

Squirting

Copia x female reader

Smut 18 +

A gasp escaped your lips as you felt his bulge pressed against you. His hands grabbed your thighs, pushing them apart. Pulling up your skirt.

Your fingers touched the edge of the stone wall. Copia kneeled down on the floor, between your legs.

"Let me show you how much I need you," he said, planting a kiss on your knee. While his hands caressed the other.

His hands sent shivers down your spine as they continued their way up your leg. You looked down at him and watched as he brushed his lips over your knees and up your inner thighs. His leather gloves felt cold and rough against your skin. It was a new sensation for you, no one had ever touched you like this before. You had never experienced so many emotions at the same time.

Desire, excitement, heat, cold. All of it made your heart race.

Copia looked up at you. His mismatched eyes sparkled in the light of the lantern, the only source of light in the dark alley. Of course, this wasn't the place for it. But you couldn't resist, he had you wrapped around his little finger.

You shivered as his hand moved up your inner thigh and placed his fingers on your panties. Your fingers gripped the edge of the wall tighter and your knuckles turned white. You bit your lip and looked at him, letting out a soft moan.

Which made Copia grin.

"I haven't even touched you yet and you're already responding so well," he whispered, kissing your thigh. His eyes never left yours. He wanted to see every reaction. Every twitch of your eyebrows. Every moan that escaped your lips. Every look was an incentive for him.

His hands grabbed the hem of your skirt and pulled it up. You lifted your bottom to help him. Your naked skin tingled against the cold stones beneath you.

You could feel the blush rising in your cheeks. There was something exciting and forbidden about standing exposed in front of him. Still, you didn't resist as he slowly pushed your panties aside. Copia let out a low growl.

"So beautiful... and already so wet!" he looked up at you. As if he wanted to ask your permission.

"Copia..." was all you could say as he brought his lips to your inner thigh again. His tongue trailed over your skin. Until it reached its destination. Slowly it licked across your wet folds. He pulled them apart with his thumb and forefinger and ran his tongue over your clit. You fought back a surprised moan and watched as he grinned and slid a finger inside you.

"Try to be quiet, amore," he said and his tongue found its way back to your center. He licked and kissed it. As he slid a second finger inside you.

Slowly he began to move it inside you. And your hand found its way into his hair. Buried itself in it. You arched your back and tilted your head. You pressed your lips together and tried as hard as you could to hold back your moans. Though every now and then a soft moan escaped your lips.

Copia seemed to enjoy it. His eyes were closed as he pleased you. Every now and then a soft moan or growl would escape his throat, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips were so soft and warm, his tongue so strong and wet, that you found it increasingly difficult to hold back. And so you let out a loud moan. Copia commented with a soft laugh.

"Shhh... amore..." he grinned and continued. His fingers pumped inside you while his tongue sucked on your clit. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you gripped his hair tighter. Your heart raced, your knees trembled.

Copia curled his fingers inside you. He found your G-spot and began to work it with his skillful fingers. It almost made you explode. You leaned back against the wall behind you. Your eyes closed, your teeth pressed almost painfully into your lower lip as you tried not to moan aloud. Which was getting harder and harder. The things he was doing to you made you completely defenseless and willing.

Your head was full of lust and desire, completely in a fog. All you could think about was him between your legs and that unknown feeling spreading through you. You grabbed his shoulder and dug your fingers into his jacket, feeling your pleasure grow stronger and stronger.

Copia felt it too, and he wanted it. He wanted to see you give yourself completely to him. He wanted to see that he had done everything right.

"Come for me. Amore... I want to see you... tearing apart under my hands... come," he rumbled, looking at you with his dark eyes as his skilled fingers increased their pressure and speed. He leaned up and kissed your neck. Before he pulled his fingers out of you and rubbed your clit.... And he didn't have to do any more. Your body seemed to explode. Copia kissed you and swallowed your loud moans. When you came, a jet of fluid shot out of you. Your eyes widened and Copia moaned darkly.

"Ohhh fuck amore...that was beautiful!“, he pulled you to him and held you until you came down from your high. you lay shivering and overwhelmed in his arms.

" Come amore...let me take you to my apartment!" he kissed your forehead.

#ghost band #the band ghost #ghostbandfanfic #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv x female reader #ghostober 2024 #25.10.2024 #copia smut #cardinal copia smut #fem reader #x reader #ghost fanfiction #papa terzo #ghost copia #ghost fandom

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deakyjoe · 1 year ago

Text

Arranged & Absolute

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Reader (fem, afab)

Category: arranged marriage, smut

Summary: To strengthen his new position as Papa, Copia agrees to marry someone he’s never met.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, desk sex, you get cum on the paperwork, vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, kissing, groping, arranged marriage, unspecified age gap, awkward first meeting, Sister Imperator being a supportive mother (but not because Copia doesn’t know she’s his mother), dead Papas (all of them, even Nihil), guilt, self esteem issues, parental issues, loneliness, poorly translated Italian, reader vaguely described as being shorter than Copia but nothing else, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: I chose the gif specifically because he looks hot in it. This fic went from “huh maybe one day I could write about an arranged marriage thing with Copia but I don’t know what exactly yet since I don’t have any solid ideas” to “what the fuck have I done” in the space of less than 24 hours! Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Copia had thought it was a stupid idea. But Sister Imperator had insisted. So here he was. On his wedding day. Having never met his bride.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, nerves radiating out of him, as he stood at the head of the chapel and watched the guests flood in to take their seats. He didn't fail to notice that almost everybody there was there for him, so many of them arriving in fact that they had to start sitting on the pews that were supposed to be reserved for your friends, family and kin. But he knew you'd travelled a long way, practically the only information he knew about you, so maybe no one from your home was willing to make the journey. Still, Copia found it sad.

Sister Imperator stood at his side, attempting to be supportive. "Calm down. The ceremony will go smoothly."

That wasn't what he was worried about. He knew the wedding itself would go smoothly, Sister would make sure of it, but everything else about it seemed all wrong. For starters, he'd never met his future wife. Which was bad enough by itself. But what if you hated him? From what he'd understood, you weren't too thrilled about the pairing either but your father had managed to convince you. Copia had met your father at least but he wasn't a particularly nice man.

When Imperator had initially come to Copia with the idea he'd laughed it off thinking it was a joke. An arranged marriage in the 21st century? And in the Satanic church where they encouraged freedom of all places? He thought it was nonsense. But then when she'd explained that a well thought out match would be put in place to strengthen his new title of Papa Emeritus IV... he started to realise that she was being serious.

He'd refused at first, saying that his position was enough. He was Papa now. And there was no taking that away, especially with his three predecessors dead and Nihil also in the grave. Who was there to question his authority? But Imperator pointed out his lack of legitimacy, he wasn't really an Emeritus, and how Papa Nihil had been reluctant to let him be the face of the clergy when he was still a mere Cardinal. Then he saw the cracks in his status.

So he agreed. A spouse would be found for him, to stand by his side and bring more power to his Papacy. He'd only allowed himself a brief second of panic when Imperator had mentioned in passing the need for an heir.

Copia looked at Sister, who had changed out of the usual skirt suit she wore and had chosen to adorn a dress in a nice green colour that suited her. Despite insisting that the whole thing was a formality, Copia appreciated her effort in making the day nice. "What if she doesn't like me?"

The older woman's face softened for a moment, how hadn't she realised that was what he was nervous about? He was a sensitive soul after all, constantly seeking approval. "She will adore you, C. Don't worry."

Copia looked down at his outfit, what if he wasn't dressed well enough? First impressions mattered after all. And the paints on his face itched more than usual. What if they started sweating off? But it was too late to dwell on that now. The last few people settled in the pews and silence descended over the chapel. It was time.

The large double doors at the back of the room swung open with a creak and the quartet in the corner started playing, what Copia believed to be, some sort of twist on the wedding march. He froze as his eyes landed on you, the reality of the situation dawning on him fully and sending him into a spiral. He was about to marry somebody he'd never met.

He tried not to let it show as you started walking towards him down the aisle, a train of lace following you. Nobody was walking you to him, ready to give you away, he noticed. Your father hadn't come to the wedding? Copia drank you in, the black wedding dress sweeping down the curves of your body and the matching veil covering your face. At least he had a moment to compose himself before he had to make eye contact with you.

You walked quickly, like you wanted to get the whole thing over and done with, and you were stood at the base of the steps in front of Copia before he could blink twice. He offered a gloved hand to you to help you up, which you took after a brief moment of staring at it through your veil. Copia squeezed it gently, hoping to offer some support and solidarity. He didn't know if it translated well.

And then you were in front of him, and the ceremony was beginning.

Imperator coughed quietly behind him. "C, the veil."

"Oh." He gasped and reached up the take the bottom of it in his fingertips, pausing for a second to allow you a moment to stop him if you wanted, before lifting it and pushing it back over your head.

The moment he met your eyes, Copia felt all oxygen leave his body. You were beautiful.

You sent him a nervous smile. "Hi."

Your voice was barely a whisper, so small and worried, that he barely heard you.

"Hi." He replied, sending a smile of his own and taking your hands in his.

Sister Imperator relaxed behind him, she could tell that he was smitten with you already. She’d chosen well.

The officiant ran through the ceremony with ease, the two of you repeating all the necessary parts when needed. Then suddenly it was over, the 'I do's' were said, rings were exchanged and Copia was a married man.

"You may kiss the bride." The officiant said.

Copia looked at you for confirmation that it was okay and when you gave a small nod of approval, he shuffled towards you and rested a gloved hand on your cheek. You leaned in first, which he was glad for as he felt as if his heart was about to beat up and out of his mouth, and met him halfway. Your lips pressed together for a second or two before the both of you pulled away with shy smiles.

The room cheered, a clear mix of real elation and dubious celebration. It wasn't a love match after all. But Copia didn't care, he had high hopes about the pairing now. You seemed nice enough and he found you breathtaking, he just hoped you could feel a fraction of the same about him. Which he feared you didn't, what could he possibly offer you?

The thoughts left him as Sister Imperator patted him on the back. "Well done, C."

"Thank you." He nodded at her before looking back towards you again.

Imperator looked at you as well. "And congratulations, it's lovely to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Sister. My father speaks very highly of you." You bowed your head at her before glancing at your new husband. "I think we're supposed to run out of here now. Like the wild newlyweds people expect to see."

Copia grinned, liking your attitude, and nodded his head in agreement. "That is exactly what people expect, shall we?”

You took the hand he offered to you and the two of you trotted down the few steps before speeding towards the doors of the chapel. People shouted words of praise and felicitations as you passed them which you could only smile at in return.

Once the both of you had burst out of the exit and the doors had swung shut behind you, a moment of peace was found. You turned to each other breathless, bashful looks gracing your faces.

“Hi.” You said, louder than the first time at the altar.

“Hi.” He repeated back to you. “You look beautiful in your dress, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You looked down at the garment before looking back at him. “You look handsome too. I like your jacket.”

“This old thing?” Copia replied before wincing. Why did he make it seem like he’d worn an old jacket for his wedding?

But you didn’t seem to notice his slip up as you continued to smile at him. “What happens now?”

“I believe Sister Imperator has organised a banquet for us.” He pulled you closer to him as guests started to file out of the chapel and guided you in the direction of the ballroom.

“A banquet? That’s pretty fancy.” You chimed, looping your arm through his so the two of you could walk together.

“She pulled out all the stops.” Copia looked over at you, surprised at how well you seemed to be taking it all. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” You glanced over your shoulder at the crowd of people that was emerging steadily. “Can we just walk a little faster? I don’t want to be bombarded by all those people just yet.”

“Sì, sì.” He increased his pace, making sure you were tightly secured to his side the whole time. “What made you agree to this marriage? I heard at first that you said no.”

“Ah.” You paused. “I did say no at first. Nothing personal against you, I promise.”

“We did not know each other. It’s okay.” He assured before letting you carry on.

“I didn’t want to marry a stranger. But I did want to escape my father. You know who he is, correct?”

Copia nodded. “I’ve met him.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” You winced. “He’s not a nice man. But holds a high position in the clergy. I’m his only child, you see. And he’s always drilled into me that I am useless because I am a daughter. What use is a daughter? I cannot be an heir and inherit anything from him.”

“That’s not true!” He gasped. “The clergy dictates that-“

You cut him off by laying a hand on his arm. “It’s not the clergy’s doing. It’s my father’s. It’s okay, I grew used to his archaic ways. Anyway he said the only good I would be was marrying me off. At first I said no because I thought he was going to marry me off to an old, ugly man who was unkind. Then he told me that you seemed sensitive when he met with you which translates to nice. And he also told me that no Emeritus has ever been ugly. I believed him. He used to keep a portrait of Papa Emeritus III before he died so I knew there was some truth in that at least.”

Copia’s stomach twisted at the reminder of Terzo’s death, a sense of guilt still ate away at him when he thought about him and his older brothers. But he didn’t let it show in front of you. “Well, I am glad that you decided to believe that I was not unkind nor ugly. However, considering you didn’t mention anything about me not being old I am going to assume that you consider me to be ancient.”

You gasped out a laugh. “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t need to. It was implied.” He laughed along with you as you reached the ballroom, pushing the door open to allow you to go in first. When he joined your side again, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth as you linked your arm with his again.

“Wow.” You mumbled as you took in the expanse of the room. “You weren’t kidding when you said Sister Imperator pulled out all the stops.”

Copia led you over to the table designed for the newlywed couple. It held four chairs. One for him, one for you, one for Sister, and one meant for your father. He guessed that chair would remain empty for the evening.

You made no comment on it as you took your seat, watching your new husband closely as he sat next to you. “What about you? What made you agree to this marriage?”

He sighed deeply before looking at you. “I feared my place as Papa would be easy to shake. I didn’t inherit it officially through the Emeritus line like my predecessors. Marrying a family member of a high upper clergy member is meant to solidify my status.”

“Ah, a power play.” You nodded.

“Yes, a power play.” He frowned at that term. “But I only agreed once Sister promised she would find me a good match.”

“And what constitutes as a good match to you?” You asked, wondering what he’d requested in a wife.

A smile lit up his face. “The gorgeous woman who is sitting in front of me.”

“Smooth.” You replied, reminding yourself to interrogate him on the topic later.

Guests started flooding in, finding their seats at the various tables that filled the room. You just watched with barely concentrated attention.

You turned to Copia once the room was about three quarters of the way full. “How many of these people do you actually know?”

“I recognise most of them. I would say I probably know a third of them personally.” He shrugged. “How many do you know?”

“None of them.” You shrugged. “I didn’t have any guests come.”

“What? None of them?” He couldn’t quite believe that. He’d assumed that the people he didn’t recognise were your half of the wedding party.

“I don’t know many people back home. Those I do know… I wouldn’t want them here.” Your nose scrunched at the memory, the people you’d grown up around were not people you needed ruining what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Copia looked at you sadly for a moment, wondering whether you were upset by the ordeal. But you seemed fine. “Well, now you have me.”

You looked at him, surprised, before a gentle smile settled on your face. “Now I have you.”

He returned the smile, picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. He mumbled an apology when he noticed the black kiss print he’d left on the skin there. You stopped him when he reached for a napkin to wipe it away, insisting he leave it there.

The moment was disrupted by Sister Imperator collapsing into the seat next to Copia. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

You exchanged a slightly giddy look with Copia before looking back at the older woman.

“We are.” He clarified. “You matched us well.”

“Knew I would.” She said smugly before looking at the empty chair next to you. “Your father did not attend.”

It was a statement more than a question.

A neutral smile settled over your lips, like you were prepared to discuss this. “No. I didn’t want him here. He didn’t want to be here. It was an easy enough decision.”

Imperator respected that response so said no more on the matter, only glancing towards the door to the kitchens where a group of servers were bustling about. “Food should be served soon. Then the day’s celebrations will be over.”

“No after party?” Copia sounded disappointed.

“That’ll be held next weekend. After all official marriage business has been taken care of. Ah, the food!” She sat up straighter in her chair as a waiter suddenly appeared and placed a plate in front of each of you.

You stared down at the appetiser salad that was about the size of your big toe. You hoped there were more courses to come. A lot more. Nevertheless, you picked up your fork and stabbed at a crunchy piece of lettuce before popping it in your mouth.

Copia did the same next to you before looking back towards Imperator again. “Official marriage business? Like what? We are married.”

She looked at him like it was obvious. “Well, you know what happens on the wedding night.”

He only looked more confused. “People getting drunk?”

Imperator rolled her eyes before practically hissing at him. "You must consummate the marriage."

Both you and Copia stopped chewing, forks being lowered to your plates with a clatter.

You swallowed the mouthful, straining slightly to force it down. "How- how soon?"

"Well, tonight preferably." Imperator said calmly. "To solidify your union."

"Sister, we've only just met." Your husband croaked.

The older woman looked at him unimpressed. "Are you trying to tell me you've never had a one night stand with someone you just met?"

"Well-" Copia choked. "That's- that's different."

"Different how?" She questioned, eyes flicking between the two of you. "Treat it like a one night stand. If it's terrible then you do not have to touch each other again. Well, until an heir is expected. But if it is good then see it as a lovely start to your marriage."

You ignored the talk of an heir, the thought of having a man you just met's baby being too much for you to handle in that moment. "Okay."

"Okay?!" Copia whirled on you, surprised you'd agreed that easily.

"Ah, beloved husband, do you find me that repulsive?" You grinned at him, only a hint of genuine worry in your voice.

"No, no. Of course not." He rushed out, thinking about how it was quite the opposite in fact. "I just did not expect you to give in so quickly."

"Give in?" You asked, eyebrows raising in question. "It might surprise you that the concept of sleeping with you does not sound so bad to me, Copia."

His heart, and cheeks, warmed at the use of his name. It was the first time you'd done so. It sounded nice coming out of your mouth. Out of his wife's mouth. "Eh, very well. We shall consummate the marriage."

"Wonderful." Sister Imperator clapped her hands together before standing up. "I shall inform the clergy of this joyous news."

The two of you watched her walk away, abandoning her salad, the knowledge that a group of old men now knew about your future sex lives playing in the back of your minds.

You shook the thought away as you scooted your chair closer to Copia's, lowering your voice for only him to hear. "You sound elated at the concept of sleeping with me."

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Um, I uh-"

You smirked. "It's okay. We can just pretend if you'd like. They'll never know the difference."

"No, that's- we don't have to do that. Do you want to do that?" He took a deep breath. "To pretend?"

You looked him up and down. "No."

His ears and neck burned red with a flush. "Really?"

You let out a short giggle. "Yes, why is that so surprising to you?"

"Because I'm- and you're-" He gestured at your face but said no more.

You smiled softly. "Well, to me you are-" You mimicked his gesture to his face.

"Oh." He squeaked and you grinned widely at him. "But you're sure? So soon?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Although I would maybe like to see what's underneath all this paint first." You said, letting your eyes roam his face.

"Of course, of course." He babbled. "Maybe you will find yourself disappointed and change your mind."

You rolled your eyes. "Unlikely."

Copia liked your confidence in assuming you were going to find yourself attracted to his face underneath the makeup. He wasn’t so sure himself but at least you’d given his ego a slight boost.

The two of you exchanged idle conversation as more food was served, bigger portions to your relief, and the occasional guest came up to your table to wish you congratulations. You didn’t fail to notice the looks of envy that were sent your way by several people who eyed up Copia hungrily as they approached. You could only laugh to yourself, finding it even funnier that your new husband seemed to lack faith in his looks despite there clearly being a long line of people who wanted him.

A couple of hours passed by and soon enough the guests started clearing out, which you were thankful for. You couldn’t wait to take your shoes off or to ease up the laces on your dress. It had been a long day. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. The time was slowly approaching. The time when you were supposed to sleep with your new husband for the first time.

You weren’t nervous exactly. But there was still an element of apprehension deep inside you.

Once the last few people had departed and Sister Imperator had wished you both a good night, a very suggestive look on her face, you and Copia were left in an empty ballroom.

“Would you like me to give you a tour of the building now? Or in the morning?” He asked you as he took your hand in his, rubbing his gloved thumb over your knuckles.

“In the morning.” You decided. “It will give us something to look forward to. Besides, I can see that you’re tired.”

“Not too tired for you, I promise.” He sighed. “It’s just been a long day.”

“I know.” You agreed and stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”

The words weren’t suggestive in the slightest which is why Copia didn’t feel nervous as he joined your side and the two of you made your way out of the ballroom. He pointed out a few landmarks of the place as you walked in the direction of his rooms but everything went largely unexplored. It could wait for tomorrow.

Anxiety set in as you reached the corridor that led to his bedroom. What if you didn’t like his space? He was willing to change things, to accommodate, as he wanted you to feel welcome. But what if you hated it? And didn’t want to share a room, or a bed, with him. He supposed he would find you your own place to stay. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would make him sad.

“And these are my rooms.” He said as he pushed his door open and ushered you in. “Our rooms, if you’d like. But if not then I’m sure we can find you somewhere of your own to stay.”

You looked around as the doors were closed behind you. It was nice. Very him from what you’d gathered so far. There was a book case, overflowing with volumes, next to a desk covered in paperwork in one corner. A large bed took up almost an entire wall, four posters with a curtain hanging around it. Fancy. He had an ornate oak wardrobe teeming with sparkly jackets that poked out of the open doors, you’d have to ask him to model some of those for you at a later date.

You turned towards Copia with a timid smile. “I don’t want to intrude. This is your home.”

He rushed towards you, taking your hands in his to reassure you. “It’s your home now too. I want you to be comfortable here. Well, not right here if you don’t want. Or if you do want.”

You couldn’t express how relieved you were at how sweet he was. “I do want. For now at least.”

His face lit up. “You’ll stay here? With me?”

You nodded, matching his positivity. “Yes.”

“Wonderful, hehe.” He paused and glanced over your shoulder towards the bed. “I will go wash my face and then… then we can…”

“Consummate the marriage?” You offered with a sarcastic smile. “It’s okay, we can take it slow.”

Copia nodded before turning and disappearing into the bathroom. You took the opportunity to snoop around a little, to get a feel for your new husband some more.

In the bathroom, he washed his face meticulously, careful not to be too harsh on his skin. He wanted to look clean and fresh for you, not like a ripe tomato from being too aggressive with a washcloth.

Once he was done Copia stared at himself in the mirror, face only slightly red from where he’d scrubbed the paint away. Faint traces of black had been left around his eyes but he knew no amount of rubbing his eyes raw with a washcloth would clean it away so he left it there. His fists clenched around the edge of the basin, nerves setting in. What if you were disappointed by what was revealed to be under his paints? You said it was unlikely you would be but a part of him still worried. The day had been going smoothly, almost too smoothly, that he thought something was bound to go wrong. And what if it turned out to be his appearance.

Pushing all of that away, he realised that he wouldn’t know any of it for sure until he just went for it. So, after letting the murky grey water wash away, Copia opened the bathroom door and stepped out with an air of faux confidence that quickly dissipated.

He found you stood next to his desk, eyes scanning his book shelves as you had a good look at all of the titles. You glanced over your shoulder at him, doing a double take when you saw him. He was standing in the arch of the bathroom doorway, backlit with light that made him glow. If you weren’t a Satan worshipper you would have said he looked angelic.

Copia shifted from foot to foot as you stared at him silently. The panic was starting to set in again as you continued to say nothing. Why weren’t you saying anything? That feeling vanished when you held out a hand to him.

“Come here.” You said quietly, tipping your head back to invite him over.

He practically ran to you, taking your hand in his but still keeping his distance by a foot or so.

You closed the distance yourself, lifting your spare hand to cup the side of his face in it. “You are so beautiful.”

His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving them, as he leaned into your touch and turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “That is high praise coming from you.”

You shook your head playfully. “Oh, my husband’s a charmer.”

My husband. He was your husband. He liked that. “Only for you, amore mio.”

“Don’t go making promises you might not be able to keep.” You teased, warmth flooding through you at the term of endearment he’d used. “What if we hate each other?”

“I think we made a promise when we recited our vows.” He kissed your palm again before leaving one on your wrist as well, quickly making his way down your arm until it was wrapped around the back of his neck. “And I cannot imagine myself ever hating anyone as lovely as you.”

You hummed in response, not being able to form a coherent reply as his face drew nearer to yours. His free hand reached for your waist, winding his arm around you and pulling you flush against his chest. Your intertwined hands stayed connected beside you.

He looked down at you with a half smile curling the edges of his mouth. “Cat got your tongue, amore mio?”

You shook your head slowly. “Just wondering where the shy Copia of a few moments ago disappeared to.”

“Ah, well, my gorgeous wife told me I am beautiful so I decided to toss the nerves aside.” He tilted his head to the side innocently.

“Your wife sounds wise.”

“Oh, she is.” His eyes flickered downwards. “She is also driving me crazy in this dress.”

You averted your own eyes in embarrassment. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Oh, amore mio, I do. I really do.” Copia decided then to push towards where the night was inevitably going to end. “However, I think I’d like it even better on the floor.”

Your eyes widened at that. But you liked it. “We better get to work then because it has a lot of buttons and a lot of lace up.”

“You are in luck. I am good with that, you see.” He grinned and gestured downwards.

You followed the angle of his hands and saw that he also had a lot of lace up. Over his crotch. “I guess we can help each other then.”

“Sì.”

And with that he kissed you. It was a lot different to the one kiss you’d shared at the altar. That had been shy and slightly awkward, hundreds of people had been watching after all. But this kiss left that one behind. It was sweet and tender, just as you expected from your new husband. But it was also hungry, like he’d been waiting all day for it. Which he had.

The arm around your waist tightened as he craned his neck to meet you halfway. He tasted vaguely of the soap he’d used to clean his face but it wasn’t unpleasant. You hummed against his lips in approval which only spurred him on, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You let your hand card through his hair before sliding it down onto his cheek again, to keep his face close to yours even when you broke apart to breathe. Your connected hands swung lowly by your sides, his fingers twitching against yours and tangling them further together.

You pulled away from him, breathless, and lifted your joint hands. “Can I ask about the gloves? It’s just I noticed that you kept them on when we did the ring exchange. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Oh, right.” He looked down at his hand, specifically to where his new wedding ring was sitting over the top of the leather. “I don’t know really. I’ve always just liked them.”

You hesitated before answering, taking in the way he was looking at you with pure open honesty, before nodding. “Okay. Would you like to keep them on now?”

Copia shook his head rapidly. “No, I will take them off.”

“You don’t have to.” You assured, not wanting to pressure him in to anything.

“No, I will. And then you can put my ring in its rightful place on my finger. Sì?”

You nodded and stepped back a pace as he slid the gloves from his fingers. You bit back a comment about how his hands were beautiful just like the rest of him and only watched until he looked up at you again. He handed you his wedding ring and offered his left hand out to you.

“You sure? No backing out after this.” You joked.

He chuckled. “I think I signed that right away when I said ‘I do’.”

You hummed and slipped the ring onto his finger, bending down to place a kiss over it once you’d done so. “Ah, perfect. See?”

“Yes, perfect.” He whispered.

When you looked back up you found that he was looking at you. You tried not to swoon.

“Are you going to help me get my dress off now that your fingers are free from leather?” You asked to distract yourself from the way he was looking at you.

“Sì, turn around.”

You did as you were told, exposing your back to him. He unfastened all of the buttons slowly and carefully, being gentle with the fabric of your dress, before exposing the section underneath with all of the ribbons that laced up your dress.

“How long did this take you to put on this morning?” He grunted as he untied the first ribbon and loosened it.

“Too long.” You sighed. “I really needed to pee by the end of it.”

Copia huffed out a laugh, his breath fanning against the back of your neck. “All for me? Amore mio, you shouldn’t have.”

“First impressions matter.” You retorted, letting out a quiet groan of relief once the second ribbon was loosened.

He reflected back on his own thoughts of first impressions only hours previously. They did matter, he agreed. He paused when you let out another quiet groan. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” You sighed. “This dress may be pretty but it sure is uncomfortable.”

“Should have said something. Would have ripped it off you in the ballroom if it was going to make you comfortable.” He pulled more quickly at the next ribbon, eager to get it off you now.

“Would have been a sight for your guests.” You said over your shoulder.

“No, would have got them to leave. My naked wife is not for them to see.”

“Ah, so possessive already?” You giggled quietly.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “Would prefer it if your body was reserved for me only, yes.”

Your eyelids fluttered shut. “It is, don’t worry.”

His hum of approval vibrated against the skin of your neck. “You’re free by the way.”

Your eyes snapped open and you turned to him again, dress falling loosely around you. You clutched at the neckline for a moment, grasping it to keep you covered. “Um, this dress doesn’t really allow for underwear. So I am actually naked underneath this.”

Copia’s eyes darkened as he glanced towards where you were pressing the fabric against your dress. “Do you want me to look away?”

“No, I was just warning you.” You clarified.

“Warning me?” He took a step closer to you, hand lifting to cover your own. “Amore mio, drop the dress. Please.”

There was only a split second of hesitation before you let go and the dress floated to the ground and created a pool of black lace at your feet. Copia tried desperately to keep his eyes on yours but the temptation was too strong. And when he looked down, there was no looking back up again.

He drank you in slowly but ravenously, eyes taking in every inch of your exposed form. When he started babbling words of appreciation to the Dark One, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“It’s only fair.” You stated before reaching for his own laces at his crotch.

Copia just batted your hand away from him, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning the two of you around. Before you could ask what he was doing, he slid his hands down to the back of your thighs and lifted you the couple of inches onto his desk.

“Your paperwork-” You started but he cut you off.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffed and kissed you again.

You moaned into his mouth when he started pawing at you, hands gliding over your body and squeezing at the handfuls of flesh he was finding. He seemed to be doing it more for his own enjoyment than yours. But you didn’t care, happy that he was just appreciating your body.

Your hips jumped forward when his clothed pelvis met yours, a mewl tumbling from your mouth at the friction. Copia took note of that and hooked an arm around the back of your ass and scooted you forward towards the edge of the desk.

“Did that feel good?” He asked and smiled when you nodded enthusiastically. “Hm.”

He bucked his hips towards yours again, using his hand at the small of your back to guide you closer to him and encourage your own movements. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for more. It felt good but you needed more. You needed him.

“Copia…” You whined, hoping to get the idea across.

“I know, amore mio, I know.” He huffed, shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders. “Can you get the buttons on my shirt please?”

Your hands flew to unfasten it as quickly as possible, not questioning why he wasn’t doing it himself. Not until one of his hands drifted from your waist to your inner thigh at least. You paused momentarily, toes curling, when his thumb brushed against your clit. Watching your reactions closely, Copia did it again.

You cried out, forehead dropping to meet his chest. “Please.”

“Please what, amore mio? Tell me, hm?” He kissed the top of your head gently to encourage you, the confidence he had when performing as Papa now helping him take charge now.

“More. Please more.” You didn’t have the words to describe what you needed.

But he knew. He lifted your head with his free hand, kissing you again, before rubbing a tight circle against your clit with his thumb. The noise you made cemented what he already knew. So he did it a few more times before re-angling his hand to slide a finger inside of you.

It felt so good that you bit down on his bottom lip by accident.

“Ah, fuck, I’m sorry.” You grumbled against him.

“No apologies necessary.” He replied softly, pulling his finger back out before pumping it back in again. This time joined with a second one.

Your eyes closed in pleasure, head dropping backwards and legs circling around the backs of his.

“Amore mio, you didn’t finish with my shirt.” He reminded you in a playful tone.

Your eyes shot open again, your hands racing to get the last of the buttons undone and the garment off of him. When it was done, pushed off his shoulders, slid down his arms, his hand momentarily retracting from you to get it fully off and on the floor, you immediately leaned forward and started exploring his chest with your mouth. You kissed, you licked, you sucked, you bit, you were insatiable. Copia enjoyed your enthusiasm.

So he doubled down in his own actions, pumping his fingers into you at an even faster speed, thumb circling your clit even harder. And soon enough it had you crashing over the edge and collapsing backwards on the desk, back flattening against the piles of paperwork.

Copia licked his hand clean, sucking your essence from his skin, with a satisfied hum. He then finished undressing himself, having no trouble with his own laces, before grabbing your hips to get your attention.

You lazily lifted your head, shooting straight up when you saw what he’d been hiding between his legs. “Are all Papas this hung?”

He barked out a laugh. “Yes, it’s a requirement for the position.”

You watched as he pumped himself a few times before stepping forward and running his tip through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. Your jaw hung open the whole time.

Copia rested a hand on your cheek to get your attention again. “Amore mio, are you ready?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He slid into you with ease, face falling to meet your shoulder as you swallowed him in. He groaned lowly at the feeling, you were so warm and wet and felt so good. You made your own desperate sounds next to his ear that he couldn’t even take a moment for himself, too eager to please you. So he pulled back out slowly before thrusting in again. Your hands flew to his back, keeping him near as your nails scratched into him. He didn’t care.

Lifting his head to see the two of you meeting between your bodies, he noticed that you were doing the same thing. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you when you made eye contact. Thoughts ran wild through his head, wondering how’d he been lucky enough to be granted you as his mystery wife. The universe must have messed up somehow, right? No, it hadn’t. Because here you were. On your wedding night. And he was inside of you as you kissed.

The kiss made mobility difficult but neither of you wanted to pull away. Copia had an arm around your waist to keep you steady and a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. You, on the other hand, just clung onto him like your life depended on it. His hips snapped backwards and forwards at a fast pace to keep the friction going but not too harshly as to disturb the meeting of your mouths. Your tongue licked into his mouth hotly and Copia could taste the desire on you. It reflected what he already felt in himself.

“Close.” You managed to gasp out during a break for oxygen.

But Copia knew that, he could tell by the way you were clenching around him. So he didn’t switch up the pace, just kept going with what he knew felt good for you. And soon enough, he had you falling over the precipice again.

He wasn’t far behind, hips rutting forward frantically a few more times before he pulled out and spilled himself over your thighs and the stacks of paperwork you were sitting on.

You giggled tiredly at the sight and looked up at him. “It’s our wedding night and we didn’t even make it to the bed.”

He hadn’t even realised that, glancing over at his large bed with fresh sheets. “We still have time.”

The fatigue washed away at that answer. “Oh?”

Copia offered a hand out to you. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

You took his hand and hopped off the desk, following him into the bathroom where he washed your thighs off. After that, Copia led his wife to your shared bed where he planned to keep you for the foreseeable future.

A/N: me staring at the title of this fic knowing full well I already have an Obi-Wan fic titled “Absolution”. It bothers me a little but not enough to come up with a new title since this one took me almost as long to come up with as it took me to write the fic itself.

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littleghuleh · 18 days ago

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well I have fought so long to be here

I am never going back

(a fluffy little Copia drabble, x unnamed fem reader)

She snuggled deeper into Copia’s side as he slept, his body weight settling heavy but comfortable over her as he did.

She held him, watching him sleep, for a long time. She marveled at the man beside her, from something as simple as the rise and fall of his breaths to the soft snores he emitted. She smiled at all of it, at him, and the peace she felt having finally crossed the line they both danced over for so many years.

She nuzzled against his chest, her arms wrapping tighter around him before she placed a gentle, feather light kiss to his bare skin. The soft mound of his chest hair tickled her nose and brought a near-silent giggle from her throat, but she was careful not to wake him.

In the safety of his embrace, she was finally able to fall asleep.

A few hours had passed before Copia finally awoke, blinking in confusion. The sun had gone down, leaving the room bathed in darkness and peeks of moonlight through the window.

He peered at her beside him, her breathing quiet and even as she slept. She looked more peaceful than he had ever seen her.

Copia pulled the blanket over her shoulders, tucking her in to keep her warm.

She stirred at the sudden movement, but her eyes stayed tightly shut. Her hands reached out blindly for Copia, and a whine escaped her when she didn't immediately feel him.

He chuckled softly at her sleepy whimper, rolling close enough for her wandering hands to find his solid form. When she settled once more, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“It’s okay, my dear,” he whispered, his fingers brushing soothingly over her cheek. “You’re right where you belong.”

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ghulehthezombiequeen · 1 year ago

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little sunshine. - i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)

cardinal copia x sister of sin! reader part 6.

masterlist. / little sunshine masterlist.

taglist: @gothicwonderlust, @jaymechaos, @siouxbauhaus, @millerthats

a/n: dude... idk why this took me so long to write but i really really hope you enjoy it! this is the longest chapter i've ever written (i think) as well! also we're not gonna talk about the theme being winter when valentine's day is literally next week,,,,,, i swear i started this in january ok

warnings/things to note: female reader, pet names, autistic Copia (perhaps), established relationship, this is basically the 'prom' episode of the series ykwim

enjoy <3

word count: 3,012 words.

The weeks preparing had flown by, the decorations slowly but surely popping up around the halls of the Ministry. You were walking to pick up your dress from the dry cleaner’s. It wasn’t new (you’d found it hanging in your closet left by the previous Sister who’d moved away), but it fit you perfectly, as if the previous owner had left it for you on purpose. The dress itself was drop-dead gorgeous— a wine red with some black lace trim on the Halter-strap bodice, and the Grucifix logo embroidered on the left side of the hip, the skirt flowing downwards in a trumpet style.

As you carried it to your room, your friend Sister Lucie was walking along with you, chatting about some sort of ghoul drama.

“Allegedly he tried to bury them in the garden, but one of them escaped the hole and lit half of the plants on fire!” She tittered, holding her royal blue dress delicately.

You couldn’t help but giggle as well. “That seems so silly. Do you know whose ghoul that was?” “Oh, uh… I think it was your boyfriend’s.”

That made you stop in your tracks, your heart dropping to your stomach. “Boyfriend? What are you talking about?” Lucie stopped as well. “Well, yeah… you and that Cardinal dude, the one with the rats? You guys fucked, didn’t you?”

You coughed, your face heating up. “Just because I spent the night in his room doesn’t mean we fucked!” Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Oh… sorry. But you guys are an item though, right? Sister Audrey caught y’all making out in the kitchen a few weeks ago.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “It’s fine. And yes, we did. But we’re not… official yet, I don’t think. I mean, I’d like to be, but he’s, y’know, pretty shy about all this, so..” She nodded in understanding. “I get it. But really?? Copia, of all the Cardinals?? I don’t mean to be rude, but girl— you can do better than him!” You shook your head and smiled. “I know, but I really like him!”

Finally, you reach your room, where Sister Leah was already starting to get ready, her hair in silk curlers which she’d left in overnight. “Who’s your date, hm?” You teased as you hung up your dress, sitting on your side at the shared vanity space.

“I’m going by myself, you know me. I like being single, thank you very much.” Leah replied, rolling her eyes as she slid into her dress— a black-and-gold fitted dress, with off the shoulder sleeves.

You checked her out and smiled. “You’re gorgeous, girlie! What are you going to do with your hair though?” She took out her curlers and lightly combed her raven-colored hair, matching perfectly with her tan skin. “No idea. Maybe just this or have Melissa braid it for me when I’m there so it won’t get in the way when I dance. Oh, I forgot to ask! You’re coming down with us, right?”

“No, no this time.” You shook your head and smiled. “I’m going with Copia!”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Seriously?! You were for real about that?! Is he, like, holding you at gunpoint or something?! Did his rats bite you and you’re contracting rabies?!” You laughed. “No! I just… I like him a lot. He’s actually really sweet and considerate. He’s very old-fashioned, you know? Not because he’s old, but— you know what I mean, right?”

She made a face, sitting next to you as she started to apply her makeup. “Whatever you say.”

Around 7pm, you were ready to go. Leah and a few of your friends were making TikTok’s about their outfits and hairstyles. You wore dark red-to-black eyeshadow, fiercely sharp cat-eye black eyeliner, and of course, deep red lipstick to match your dress. You’d also put your hair half up half down, lightly curled and adorned with golden rose charms. Your friends were all gorgeous, but your beauty was unmatched.

“Ugh, all my friends are hot!!” Sister Calista whined as she looked at the photos on her phone.

You and Copia had been texting back and forth as well, sending snippets of each other’s outfits. The one that made you audibly snort was when he tried taking a mirror selfie, but he was holding Biscotti in one hand and on the verge of dropping him as Biscotti seemed more interested in chewing the phone case than posing for the photo.

You made it your lock screen because it was just so adorable.

Five or so minutes later, you heard a knock on the door, causing everyone’s heads to turn. You stood up in your black platform Mary Janes, making you maybe two or three inches taller than usual, and opened the door to see a nervous Copia standing in front of you with a bouquet of roses. His suit was similar to his Cardinal’s robes, probably a standard uniform for formal events, you figured. Only this time he was wearing a tie with the Grucifix logo printed on it as a design.

Upon seeing your beauty, of course his face would immediately flush almost as red as your dress. “Eh…. You look… Wow. I-I mean—! Ugh, why is this so difficult…” he mumbled, turning his head and holding out the bouquet for you. “These- these are- they’re for you. You like roses, yes? Please say yes…”

You were so touched by the romantic gesture, taking them delicately and cooing. “You’re so sweet, thank you! Give me one minute, I’ll put these by my bed.”

“Oh, okay. Good. Yeah, go— go do that. Mhm.” He nodded awkwardly, giving you a lopsided smile as you closed the door briefly, showing off the flowers to your girlfriends, who also collectively ‘aww’ed.

“I’ll see you guys there!” You called as you opened the door again, stepping out and holding your black clutch bag. “Aww, you got all dressed up for me.” You purred, smirking mischievously as he stood staring at you like a dumb fool.

“Eh? Oh! Y-Yes, hello!” He cleared his throat and fixed his tie before offering his arm out. “I-I can take your bag? Or you can keep it, that’s- that’s fine too.”

You handed your clutch to him with a small titter, lacing your arm into his as well. “I-I’m so glad we can do this… you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amore mio…” he mumbled timidly.

“And you are the most handsome, sweetheart.” You smiled and he flushed even redder, this man was pathetic. But you loved him either way.

The formal was being held in the main chapel of the Ministry, all the pews cleared off to the sides and replaced with round tables and chairs. There was an opening in the middle, presumably the dance floor. To the left, a photobooth where a group of Siblings were bombarding the poor photographer. To the right was the dessert and beverage bar, ranging in many different cuisines to fit everyone’s dieting habits. Everything was decorated with icicles and snowflakes, little ice skates placed intricately around the room and miniature light-up snow globes as centerpieces. Copia let out a low whistle as he checked out the area. “Wow… very fancy-shmancy, ain’t it?”

You nodded with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, they really went all out this year. Wonder why?”

He shrugged. “Did you, um… want to take a photo when it’s not busy? O-Or we don’t have to! I… I don’t know. I just wanted a nice photo of you for my wallet. N-Not in the stalker way, though! Like, eh… W-We’re together now, right? S-So– I-I mean!–”

He buried his face in his hands again, and you pried them away gently with a soft smile playing at your lips. “You’re so silly. Never change, Copia. Never change.”

He gulped and nodded, unable to look you in the eye as his cheeks continued to burn red. “You’re too good to me. I-I don’t deserve you… I’m so pathetic.”

“Hey, hey.” You took the sides of his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Don’t talk like that. You are just as deserving of love as anyone else in this room, okay? Now, we’re here to have fun and celebrate the new year, yeah?”

He nodded, an apologetic smile on his face, leaning to yours and lightly pecking your nose. “Thank you, amore.”

You hummed in contentment, releasing his face but not before you returned the gesture, your lipstick transferring onto his nose but neither of you noticed. As you sat at your assigned table together, chatting about some of your interests (he was heavily invested in some retro game called ‘Driving Miss Daisy,’ which you’d never heard of before), a ghoul approached you both and got you two as it was your turn for the photo booth.

“Ahm.. good. Good-good, let’s go, yes?” he smiled crookedly, offering his arm yet again.

You walked arm in arm and stood in front of a periwinkle backdrop decorated with sparkly blue and white streamers, along with snowflake cutouts and a few blue and silver balloons. The ghoul told you both that you could take up to four photos, and pointed to the table nearby where there were cutout props and cheap boas in different colors. You took a white one and wrapped it around Copia’s neck, drawing him in closer until your bodies were flushed together. You smiled and looked at the camera, where the ghoul was ready to take the first photo. Copia on the other hand was mumbling a multitude of unintelligible words in Itanglese as the ghoul snapped the photo, the flash stinging your eyes a bit. “Aw, c’mon, baby! Smile!” you giggled and tossed the boa back to the table, now switching your pose to the classic prom pose, only your arms were around his waist, his back pressed against your chest as you hugged him closer.

“Eh… Amore, this– this is the wrong way,” he mumbled. “I’m supposed to be holding the girl, n-not– um..”

“But you’re the babygirl in this relationship,” you teased as you propped your chin on his shoulder, your cheeks grazing each other’s. He squeaked and whimpered a weak reply, his voice unable to be comprehensible.

The ghoul took another photo, cooing softly at the sight of you two being so affectionate.

You took two more photos, one of him with your lips hovering over your cheek and you copying him in the other. However, you actually kissed his cheek, and this time you did notice that your dark lipstick had left an imprint on his pale complexion. You chuckled but didn’t say anything, taking his hand and waiting for the ghoul to put the photos in a collage and print out two copies.

Copia kept glancing around nervously, as if he was ashamed to be seen with you in fear of others thinking you took him to this event out of pity.

You lightly squeezed his hand, causing his head to snap back at you. He gulped as he saw your warning expression, causing him to nod and take a deep breath.

The ghoul chirped to get both of your attention, holding out the photo strips for you to take. You thanked the ghoul and gave him a few appreciative scritches to his chin, causing him to trill and clap his hands in joy.

You handed him his copy as he led you back to the table, noticing a few Siblings giving him playful smiles as he still hadn’t noticed the kiss mark you left on him. However, he turned to you as you both sat down, looking at you timidly. “Do I… have something on my face?”

“Oh, only a little gift I left you from earlier,” you hummed and opened your clutch, handing him your compact mirror so he could see. His eyes widened as he saw the outline of your lips on his left cheek.

“S-Sorella! Amore mio, perché non me l'hai detto prima? I-I-I look like un idiota!” he sputtered out quickly, taking his glove off and rapidly swiping at it to get it off. His face was almost as scarlet as your dress from how embarrassed he was.

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking out a makeup remover wipe and helping him.

“Ugh, you torture an old man,” he groaned.

“Oh, honey, it’s not that bad.”

“It is! Now I look even more pathetic…”

You were about to say something sarcastic in return, but more Siblings and their dates had arrived at your table and kept grabbing your attention. However you kept your hand securely fitted with Copia’s under the table, trying your best to include him in the conversation but it seemed like the Siblings were too scared to confront him due to his rank.

As more people filed in, Copia’s hand gripped your own hand tighter. He was anxious, he had never been good with big crowds of people that he knew. Sure, he could sing nonstop for two hours for thousands of people, but these were people he saw on a day-to-day basis.

You held up his hand and pressed a kiss to the back, running your thumb on the side soothingly in hopes to calm him down, which evidently worked; he took in a deep breath and smiled weakly.

“I-I’ll go get some drinks. Did you want anything, water, soda?” he offered, he was so polite.

You opted for water, smiling and watching him as he wandered to the beverage bar. The Siblings sitting at the table with you took this opportunity to talk to you alone.

“Girl, why?” Brother Nathan asked.

“What do you mean ‘why?’”

“Because he’s– eugh!” Brother Theo made a sour face, holding onto Nathan’s hand tightly. “He’s a Cardinal, much higher ranking than you! Is he your sugar daddy or something? Because honey, we can call someone to raise your paycheck at the library–”

“Stop, ew! He’s not doing anything like that!” You scoffed. “I actually really enjoy his company. He’s just shy, if you would just give him a chance to warm up to you, and maybe even warm up to him in return, you'll know he’s very sweet and considerate!”

“Right… and this is the guy that has like… fifteen rats?” Sibling Everest grimaced.

“Oh, stop it, E.” Sister Nicole huffed. “Don’t say that like we don’t have a pet snake in our room.”

“But it’s only one of Nugget! There’s multiple rats!” They defended themself.

“Guys, maybe we should chill. I don’t think he’d appreciate us talking smack about him behind his back like this. We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?” Theo spoke up before the argument got heated.

Everest sighed. “Whatever.”

Copia returned not a minute later, holding five drinks in both hands. “Eh… I got you all some, uh.. Some water. Here,” he passed them along the table, now noticing some tension in the air from the previous conversation.

“Ah… it’s about my rats, isn’t it?” he chuckled sheepishly. “They are perfectly healthy, no- no bad germs, I can assure. And they mostly stay in my room, don’t worry.”

You chuckled as he attempted to socialize, holding his hand gently in reassurance. The rest of the Siblings nodded and tried to be more friendly, though every time they spoke to him, they gave you all skeptical looks.

After everyone had filled their stomachs with food and drinks, Sister Imperator made a few announcements congratulating the upper ranks on a very successful turnout of new Siblings and churchgoers, along with a few achievements from the newly summoned ghouls. She made it pretty short as Papa Nihil needed some medical attention and was wheeled out of the room on oxygen, clutching his saxophone and grumbled in a rusty voice, “I can still play, Seestor! Let me play just once!”

Soon after, I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston started playing, courtesy of the ghoul manning the DJ booth. Siblings just sat awkwardly, unsure if they could dance on the floor or not. You took this opportunity to grab Copia’s hands and yank him out of the chair, pulling him to the dance floor. “C’mon, baby! Let’s go make this official!”

“A-A-Amore, I cannot dance!” he whimpered shakily as you took him to the middle of the dance floor, suddenly twirling him around and making him do the same to you, causing you to giggle. “Yes, you can dance! I’ve seen you on stage before!” “Well, y-yes, but not like this!!” he gasped as you dipped him, pecking him on the lips once more, the watchful eyes of the Siblings widening and a few gasping in shock and amusement. Not a moment later, more Siblings were slowly crawling to the dance floor, singing along and dancing with their friends or partners.

“I-I don’t know the dance to this song, amore!” Copia mumbled, letting you take the lead as you sang the lyrics to him, laughing. “There’s not supposed to be a certain dance, hon! Just feel the music!”

As the song continued, Copia began to feel more confident, finally twirling you around a few times and dipping you in return. “Is it like this, eh… baby?”

“Mhm,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought you upright again. You both took a breather to gaze into one another’s eyes, a faint blush on both of your faces. Copia gulped before impulsively leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, holding the kiss for several seconds. You could feel his hands starting to coil around your waist as you both ignored the collective oohing from your peers, and just as he pulled away you followed him, kissing back. This wasn’t a kiss of lust, nor of desire. This felt natural, as if you two were meant to be together, in each other’s arms. It felt like true love.

As you finally pulled away with a chuckle, you could swear you could hear Copia singing under his breath, “I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me…”

~~~

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